CANNONBALL ⇒ jegulus

TWENTY SIX

Regulus wakes before James. Much before James, actually, as the clock is nearing half five and Regulus is feeling rather restless. With a soft, silent kind of sigh, he crawls out of bed and gets himself dressed.

His head feels heavy and achy, a small, unnoticeable wave of dizziness washes over him so swiftly that Regulus finds it in himself to ignore it.

Regulus only bothered to come on this tour to get some inspiration and writing material; he figures he should get to that sooner, rather than later. No better time than the present, or at least Regulus suspects so. Regulus ties up his converse, a hand coming to rest against his growing belly.

He let's his fingertips stroke the surface gently. "Mummy's going to go for a walk, a really, really long walk," Regulus tells his son, who, of course, does not reply.

After pulling on a sweatshirt paired with a pair of jeans that Regulus had had to tousel with to get on, he gathers up on his things; his pens, his journal, whatever he may need for his spontaneous outing. Ripping a page from his journal, Regulus scribbles a passive note for James to wake up to;

Gone out. Be back in a bit....see you then...?

Regulus considers James won't be in a rush to enlist a military search party for him, especially not after the night they had had.

Once securing his note, Regulus quietly steps outside the room and makes his way down the carpeted hallway, stepping lightly; for fear of waking anyone. Lily, Marlene and Dorcas, still occupy Peter and Mary's room and Regulus is certain that this is their last morning there, or at least Marlene hopes so; she has grown rather tired of the constant hangovers she's been giving to herself via gin and perhaps Peter's light snoring.

The breeze early morning air is refreshing against Regulus' tired face as it hits his cheeks. Regulus hums to himself. "Mummy and daddy aren't doing so good right now, sprog," Regulus whispers, his hand brushing against his abdomen. "We'll work it out. We always do, don't we? I hope this time isn't all that different, eh?"

Regulus sighs deeply. He isn't quite sure exactly where he is going, but he knows he will be going there for most of the morning. The boys had band practice to set up for their final night in Manchester throughout the afternoon and them their last show would begin, so Regulus is sure they won't miss him for too long; they will be far too busy to, so Regulus is confident his escape will work for now.

He will go unnoticed, and for once, it leaves him feeling empty and hallow; void of any and all emotions.

After a few moments of brisk walking, Regulus finds himself at a small park. He spots a bench and makes his way towards it. After deeming it a perfect writing spot, Regulus sits down and sighs, opening his journal to a fresh, blank page. He jots down the date into the top corner and begins scribbling, pooling his thoughts out onto the blank canvas he had given himself.

Sprog,

Hello, my love. It's just about six in the morning and I feel as though I may have pulled an uncle Sirius and run away, in a small sense.

I've not run away from home, I suppose, but I may have just gone away to clear my head for a bit. Your daddy and I got in an argument last night and a pretty bg one at that.