Best to You ✸ Regulus Black

002. Cheetah Prints

AUGUST

♱

Regulus Black was nothing but a cold soul. He was not blessed with a kindness or kind parents. Which was probably the reason he himself had a heart of stone. His mind was a complex labyrinth enough as it is, but now with the whole dark mark placed on his left forearm, his nights were now terrorised with what was to come, or what could happen, or what had happened. This night was no different.

Sirius was leaving. He'd had this nightmare at least once a week since it had happened 2 years ago. He had walked into Sirius's scandalous bedroom. The one with posters plastered on every wall, naked women and ridiculous muggle bands. Pictures framed of his tiresome friends. What looked like old men's jumpers were thrown over the posts of his bed, smelling of chocolate and Earl Grey tea.

His brother's sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, his laughable tattoos on show. His black hair was tied up into a knot on the back of his head.

"Where are you going?" Regulus had asked.

"The Potters." Short answer. Sirius hadn't even looked up from where he stood, too busy angrily throwing things into his case.

"When are you coming back?" A stupid question. How naive of him to ask. He was met with silence.

"Don't leave."

"I have to."

"Please." Again, silence. "Sirius."

"I have to!" He was suddenly shouting. "I can't live like this, the way I'm living I'm better off fucking dead!"

"You can't leave me with them." Regulus was quiet. Almost nervous.

"Then come with me!"

"You know I can't."

"Why? Why can't you?!" His older brother was now in his face, not giving him a chance to speak before he started yelling again. Regulus hated it when people yelled. "You want to become one of them don't you, a filthy pure-blood supremacist. They'll make you become one of his followers soon enough."

"No, Sirius, I-"

"Tell me, Regulus, do you like them controlling you?!" He shoved his shoulders. "Pushing you around?!" Another shove. "Tell me, Regulus, tell me!!" The last shove, harder than the rest had Regulus's head hitting the doorframe behind him, a bit of blood dotted on the paint as he slid down the wall, black started to cover his vision.

That's where Regulus usually gained consciousness, gasping up from where he lay, trying to get his lungs to do their job. Instead making it seem like they were sealing his fate, killing him early like he was sure he was destined to. He was surprised he had lived this long already.

This time was the same, even the beauty of Italy couldn't settle the evil of his mind. The boy shot his eyes open, lurching forward and almost falling to his knees. His lungs were burning and there was a pain in his neck. His breath took a minute to come back and he registered where he was. His hotel room. Okay, he was safe. That was good. Though he was on his sofa, instead of his bed. His head was throbbing and he ran his hands over his face as he tried to salvage any memory from the night. The ache in his neck made him hiss as he tried rolling his head. It seemed he had fallen asleep upright with his head fallen onto the flat back of the sofa. Along with the pain in his neck, his body was shining with sweat, having forgotten to open the balcony doors last night. Last night. What happened last night?