i really loved him

chapter 33

Sunday, 14th November, 7:12 – "You're an idiot."

After spilling out of bed, very nearly throwing up again and literally crawling to the bathroom for an icy shower, James had managed to drag himself down to the pitch.

Quite impressively, in his opinion, he was only a few minutes later than their agreed meeting time. However, as soon as he trudged through the changing room door, where Regulus was stood waiting, another potent wave of nausea had swept over him; he'd had to sit down on the nearest bench to avoid toppling over.

That's where he was still slumped, drawing his knees to his chest and hunching against the wall, trying really hard not to pass out. Regulus quickly came to sit beside him – which didn't help the whole 'not passing out' thing – and having concluded that he was okay, had begun to berate him.

"I know," James groaned, plonking his chin on his knees.

"You shouldn't have come."

"I know."

"Why did you, then?"

Turning to face him, James became painfully aware of how much a mess he must look; eyes red, surrounded by dark circles from lack of sleep, hair still wet and all over the place from the shower, and he knew how puffy his face got after a night of getting plastered. Blood rushed to his cheeks as Regulus looked back at him, half-exasperated, half-worried.

"'Cause I promised," he sighed.

Hangovers were shit, but breaking a promise to Reggie would be shitter.

"How noble of you," Regulus said dryly.

But he was smiling. And James had to look away again because the sickness in his stomach was swiftly being replaced by butterflies. Then abruptly, Regulus rose from the bench and walked to the changing room exit. For a moment, James thought he was just leaving altogether. As if reading his mind, Regulus paused at the door and turned to him.

"Stay here," he said briskly. "I'll come back."

Before James could ask where he was going, he looked amused and added, "Sit on the floor, not the bench; keep your head as low as possible. That should help."

And he left the room.

James did as he was told, sliding onto the smooth floor and leaning his back against the hard edge of the bench. It was welcoming, given that he felt way too hot all over, to feel the cool stone beneath him. Though the goosebumps soon started rising all over his arms and legs and then he was way too cold. Hangovers really were shit.

Closing his eyes, James hugged his legs in again and rested his head between his knees, keeping it low, like Reggie had said. That helped. The constant swirling in his stomach and brain started to ease. He stayed like that until steady, clipped footsteps came back into the room. He glanced up.

Sure enough, Regulus was back. Behind him hovered a large goblet and a silver plate upon which a tall pile of toast was stacked.

Sitting down cross-legged beside him, Regulus flicked his wand to send it all floating down between them on the floor. He folded his hands in his lap, right over left, and looked at James.

"You should eat," he said.

"Um, cheers," James said hesitantly. The toast smelt good, but his insides were only just starting to settle and he didn't fancy risking it. "I'm not that hungry, though."

"Yes, that's why it's not all for you," Regulus smirked.

He took the top slice, then pushed the plate towards him with a stern look.