ENCHANTED ⇒ jegulus

TWENTY EIGHT

James watches Regulus out of the corner of his eye, his hand scrapping across his sketchbook quickly, as he rapidly draws something that James can not yet make out.

Apparently, art is a process. Sirius had once briefly explained it to James; that Regulus likes to take his time, sorting out each detail of the artwork in his brilliant head before transferring it on to paper. Sirius had almost mentioned that Regulus could spend weeks on a simply pencil work sketch. He is precise, particular, perhaps even a perfectionist.

Aurora is sleeping peacefully in the nursery upstairs, James keeps his focus maintained, waiting to hear any small sounds of distress or fussing as he sips his tea, Regulus has a glass of red wine in front of him; James isn't yet sure what kind of an evening it is. But he is sure to find out when he parts his lips, dampening them with his tongue. "Everything alright, darling?" He drawls softly.

Regulus doesn't look up. He hums, continuing to drag his pencil across the page. "M'fine, James," He replies flatly.

James arches an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

Regulus looks up to face him, reaching for his wine, his face twisted into a grim thinking sort of face. He takes a sip, swigging it around in his mouth for a few short seconds before he swallows, clearing his throat to speak. "Do...do you maybe think that I was too harsh with Evans?"

"Regulus-"

"I made her cry, James,"

James chuckles gently, trying to ease his boyfriend's tension. "Well, look, she's been crying for months, hasn't she?"

"That's very catty of you, James," Regulus speaks in a dry voice. "I fear I may be rubbing off on you,"

"Would that be such a terrible thing, eh? For me to grow a backbone?" James wonders, the barest hint of a smile within his voice. "You're the one who spent months mocking me for my lack of a backbone, remember?"

Regulus smirks a little at this. "It would be. You're nice. It's actually why I like you," He brings his wine glass to his rosy lips. "Stay nice, please?"

"I'm nice?" James echoes.

Regulus just nods. "Mmh," He hums, swallowing a mouthful of wine. "You're very...well, you're nice, y'know?" He shrugs. "Just...just very nice,"

"Yeah, well you're nice too," James reaches his hand across the table, linking it with Regulus' smaller one, tracing small lines up and down the younger man's knuckles. "Look, I think you said what you needed to say. Whether you think it was nice or not, you were allowed to say it. You're allowed to be hurt, Regulus, Lily hurt you and you don't have to hide it," He speaks gently.

Regulus takes a sip of his wine. He had assured James that he was entitled to at least one small glass while breastfeeding. After the events of Lily's farewell dinner, James did not necessarily want to deprive Regulus of the wine either. He hums softly. "I don't like it when you say she hurt me. I've hurt her too, haven't I? Swept in here, stole her life, I...I've hurt her too. It was like we were both shooting at one another and each time, one of us came away unharmed but it was going to be the next person the next time, y'know?"

"I...I don't know, actually." James starts. "But...but I'm trying to understand what you mean," He softly runs the pads of his fingers over Regulus' knuckles. "But you didn't steal her life. You didn't take her place in my life. That's for sure, Regulus. I...I wouldn't have a life like this with Lily and I wouldn't have a life like I have with you with her. You're...you're both very separate people, but I'm sure you've figured that out yourself, haven't you?"