A Pureblood's Guide to Dating The Brothers Black

Chapter 42: Her bed. His mess.

Regulus wandered into the witch's side of the Slytherin. The air was stagnant—quiet, even—given that everyone was still asleep. Still, he received a note from Eleanor telling him to meet him in her room before breakfast. He'd been avoiding this side of the hall ever since the incident on the train. He didn't know how to face Colette (in public or private) without wanting to pull her in his arms and hold her close—to be with his best friend and tell her everything that they missed over the past few weeks. Honestly? This was the longest they had gone without speaking, and life almost seemed... dull.

Lifeless.

Uneventful.

He had no meaning without his best friend.

So yes, Regulus could agree that he fucked up. No, it was more than that because nothing could turn back time to mend the rift he had created with his pompous stupor and anxiety-riddled mind. The more time that passed, the more significant that valley stretched, forming an ocean that would soon become a world apart. He wondered if she would ever speak to him again. Would she even dare glance in his direction? Would he ever know what her lips tasted like again?

It was insane how much time could pass between two people forming those stark changes. Just two months ago, he wanted to take her bare in the garden, on her bed, in the sitting room when he kissed her. He wanted to taste that sweetness between her thighs and be the only one on this Godric-forsaken earth to do so. He wanted to devour her and worship her until the end of time.

Better yet, he wanted to marry her.

But he had to go and fuck that up too.

Gods, why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut that day when he watched her play Vivaldi in front of his entire family and hers? Why couldn't he have just kept the relationship platonic—simple, like it always was? Why did he have to lie to her, make her feel like nothing? You weren't a virgin, were you? Fuck. They never even had sex. Why did he have to go and say that? Ruin everything just like his life crumpled before him.

The door swung open as if predicting his arrival. Eleanor stood there, practically dragging him in by his necktie. Her lips instantly pressed against his own with no warning or permission.

Well, hello to you, too.

Regulus kissed Eleanor back, his eyes drifting over to the vacant bed in the far corner. Colette's bed. Her bed was made, and Regulus knew the house-elves hadn't arrived this early. He knew that Cassandra Bulstrode had spent the night with Mulciber. Gods, Demeter needed to figure out how to cast a silencing charm. He could hear them fucking through the stone walls, practically waking up the whole castle. Esme (of course) had slept on the tufted leather sofa in the common room, waiting for Severus, who didn't even bother showing up. The poor witch needed to move on. Morgana drank a vial of Dreamless Sleep and didn't even bother to show her face for the rest of the evening.

But Colette wasn't there. He could feel her absence like a throbbing wound.

"I missed you, Reggie," Eleanor whispered into his mouth.

Regulus fought the urge to pull away as her tongue slipped past his lips, dancing dangerously in his mouth as her hands tangled in his hair.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen her since his blood-traitor brother dragged her away for that school project. Fuck. Where was she?

Eleanor pulled away. Her brows knitted together as she realized his distance. "What's wrong, Reggie?" she asked.

He swallowed down the nausea. "Nothing," he murmured, but he couldn't help but look towards the vacant bed again. "Did, uh, Rosier sleep here last night?"