Black Stag

Romeo & Juliet

The lamp leaked a watery orange light over Regulus. It hadn't turned incredibly late yet, however, the sky had begun to bruise earlier and earlier as the wind had started to chill. Regulus enjoyed coming here, when the room was deathly silent, bar the sound of his own feet and shaken breath; it had helped the world feel less bleak and removed the feeling that everything around him was painstakingly empty. His lungs had begun to shrink so much they were near-shattering, filled an abundance of pressurised breath. Pandora had told him that should he overwork himself too much he'd end up not being able to perform at all. Regulus had decided he'd rather not perform as a result of an injury than suffer being given a mediocre part at best. He was destined for an actual role in the performance of Romeo and Juliet, he'd thought, and he wouldn't put up for less than Romeo- Barty had also then chimed in to say that was wishful thinking and he was more suited for Juliet.

Though Regulus had never wanted to admit this, for it was far too soap-operatic for his liking, he found the whole premise of Romeo and Juliet rather intriguing. Two young lovers thwarted by others' hate, a tragedy he found beautiful. He also thought that he would never sacrifice his life for another and that the whole ending was very stupid and could've easily been stopped had Juliet not sat gaping.

Regulus moved like a swan, gliding elegantly across the floor of the studio, watching his posture intently in the mirror, his stage-smiled stiffened around the edges as his feet didn't move the way his brain had wanted them to. He rested his hands against the barre, looking up at himself in the mirror through his eyelashes He knew tomorrow his whole body would ache deeper than the muscle and bone, but right now it was numb, he couldn't feel a single pinprick against his skin and once he'd reached this point he willed to keep moving, make the most of his precious time of stillness.

He tapped his heels together, feet fighting, and straightened his knees. The person in the mirror hadn't looked like him, a vision of a little boat rocking widely on the waves popped up in his head. It slowly calmed to a placid still, but when you had looked underneath the seaweed had tangled into a rotten mess, it caused him to falter for a moment and he completely dropped again. He was thinking of kicking the wall when the door swung open, interrupting his self-destructive train of thought. A boy walked in, a bucket filled with water and a dirt-soaked sponge in their respective hands, Regulus thought the sponge was doing more harm than good to whatever he was cleaning.

"You look a bit sick," James said, dunking the sponge into the bucket. The water sloshed over the top, water fell down to the floor, "Have you ever watched The Friendly Ghost?" James looked at the boy, much like his friend, his nose was aquiline, as if he was snatched out from a book about Ancient Greeks. The hollow cheekbones of the Black Brothers always seemed to accentuate the hollowness of their eyes, highlighting the colours. Much like Sirius' his eyes were blue, though a lighter shade. The brothers eyes were like ice, but held a fire in them. One glance of the blue eyes told of a lifetime of struggle, one that no matter how many times James had asked he'd never get the full story as it wasn't able to be put into words.

Regulus turned back to the mirror, sucking in his stomach, and turned back around, "Thank you." His teacher had once told him, that was his aim. That had he turned such a sickly pale colour, had his ribcage stuck out, as with his hip bone- he'd make the perfect dancer. He does owe much of his obsession with this one passing statement to his self-inflicted goal of perfection, however, there's always the subtle suggestions from her to achieve this as well as the constant reminder he doesn't quite meet this ideal yet and the one phrase had been an everlasting trail of thought in his brain.

James had simply furrowed his dark brow in confusion, thinking he'd've been rather insane to accept that as a compliment with zero sarcasm laced in his voice.