SEA, SWALLOW ME, remus lupin

trì, the constraints of a friendship

CHAPTER THREE
the constraints of a friendship

                           𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

  "REGULUS?"

The last thing she had expected to see upon her doorstep, no, windowsill so late at night was none other than Regulus Black himself. She also would never have expected him to look so... scruffy.

His curls are disheveled and strewn with stray leaves, the usually meticulous architecture behind them having crumbled completely. Flecks of mud dapple his porcelain complexion, his gaunt cheekbones drenched in heavy droplets from the rain shower. His expensive, tailored robes are in complete tatters and his palms are scraped raw, giving the impression that he was fleeing from something in a hurry. Though, Cove soon decides that the worst thing about him has to be his eyes.

The only way to describe them is haunted. Burst blood vessels stain the whites as if he's been straining against something, a massacre taking place in his mind. There's a bruised crater encircling his left one, not only from lack of sleep but from what looks like blunt force. He blinks slowly and infrequently, a faraway look glazing over his nimbus irises as if he's a victim of shell shock — she wouldn't be surprised if his ears were ringing, as well. He's shaking like a leaf and can't focus on one thing at a time, his stare darting around her bedroom wildly in case there's more danger awaiting him inside.

She doesn't quite know what to say to his intrusion, but it dawns upon her that he's injured and balancing on her windowsill, so she should probably hurry up and think of something before he hurts himself more.

  "Jeezo, Regulus," Cove breathes. "When I said that you shouldn't be a stranger, this is not what I meant."

  He kneads at his ribs as if he's got a stitch. "Is this a bad time?" he asks breathlessly.

Cove looks between him and her Transfiguration essay. She faces him again, shaking her head. "Don't be daft."

  She ushers him inside, stepping back to let him tumble onto her floorboards. He groans slightly when he lands on his knees, his injured palms suffering the brunt of the fall. Cove knits her eyebrows together.

"Triton's trident, are you okay?" It feels like a silly question the second she asks it, but she just wants a straight answer for once.

Regulus scoffs a laugh at the phrase. "Do I look okay?" he mutters defensively. His guard is up, that much is clear. It only makes Cove's concern deepen.

"You certainly had me fooled," she says dryly. "Seriously, what the fuck happened? And don't even think about lying to me."

He ignores her. "Do you have any Wiggenweld Potions?"

"Probably not. I can do you a paracetamol."

Regulus rolls his eyes. It makes her blood boil slightly, though the anger dissipates into concern when he tries to get to his feet without any assistance, unprepared for his knees to buckle and collapse beneath him. Cove rushes forward immediately, grappling onto his arms to try and steady him when he crashes down against the floorboards. He hisses through his teeth as if her hands burn his skin, pushing her away from him whilst muttering about how she shouldn't touch him.