The Storm | Regulus Black

Conflict and Reconciliation

Agatha was mentally preparing herself for the Prefect patrol she was about to undergo as she descended the stairs to the common room. To say that the Easter party had ended badly would be an understatement. Agatha and Regulus had had another fight.

"Why would I be jealous of Fawley— she's probably up on the second storey sucking someone off as we speak!"

"And why, pray tell, would I be jealous of Wilkes, the bloke is practically a boy-toy to you anyway," said Regulus.

"I do not have boy-toys!" Agatha said defensively.

"Hm, then why would you use him to get me jealous? Was it to make yourself feel better about the fact that you're no better than any other girl when it comes to feelings?" he asked innocently.

"Oh please. Don't embarrass yourself."

As much as she persisted in hating Regulus, she truthfully didn't have the mental energy nor capacity to fight him. She hoped that he wasn't in the mood either, and that she didn't have to come up with jarring comebacks to his mediocre, however, occasionally brilliantly executed ones. Regulus really did know how to hurt someone, and she did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

Agatha did not want to come to terms with her embarrassment, and had yet to tell her friends about it. She wasn't embarrassed about having a fight with Regulus, no, she was embarrassed about the fact that he had been correct. 'Was it to make yourself feel better about the fact that you're no better than any other girl when it comes to feelings?' During Agatha's infatuation with Regulus, the fact that she had become soft had completely slipped her mind. She could not be soft, she was Agatha Burke.

Therefore, she had almost decided to rot in her room for the night, as she did not want to face a Regulus who would either want to scream at her... or fuck her. That was a lie. She wouldn't mind him fucking her, which was precisely why she wanted him out of her sight. She could not stoop to that level of self deprecation. Nevertheless, she used to be able to easily clap back at him. Nowadays she simply didn't have the patience. She needed answers.

Agatha kept her gaze on her shoes as she walked over to the exit of the common room, where they usually met. Then she saw a pair of finely kept shoes and looked up. The two made eye contact for a split second and walked out of the common room.

Well this certainly isn't awkward, she thought.

It had nearly been half an hour since they began their patrol which had gone on in complete silence. Agatha had been thinking the whole time.

At a certain point it seemed as if she got so overstimulated and overwhelmed by her mind that she blurted out, "I-was-jealous-and-I'm-sorry-for being-such-a-stuck-up-bitch" in a speed so rapid and unclear that even she didn't understand what she had said.

Regulus stared at her and blinked. "What?"

She glared at him and then looked back at the ground. "I was jealous and I'm sorry for being such a stuck up bitch."

She didn't improve much from her previous go, but at least he understood.

His face slowly formed one of extreme incredulity. "Would you mind saying that again?"

She glared at him again.

"Thank you. Truthfully, I should apologise as well."

Agatha cleared her throat and looked around. "I'm sick of it."

"Of what?" he asked.

She glanced at him before looking at her surroundings again, even though there wasn't much to see except for blank flagstone walls and floors. "It's so abundantly clear that we have feelings for one another, but neither of us want to muster up the courage to do anything real about it."

Regulus was staring at her, baffled by the honesty. He was happy that she had said it, since she was absolutely correct.

"I don't want to go back to only hating you— well, I still do, but not as much as I did before, unfortunately," she chuckled.

Regulus opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it with an infinitesimal frown on his face. "Either we do something about it or..."

There was a certain type of depth in looking at each other that they had not felt before. There was a sort of meaning behind it. Something that made every noise in the surrounding area go absolutely silent, something that made everything around them vanish.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Agatha said in a near whisper.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want?"

She stilled as well and looked at him for a moment before groaning. "See?" she said hopelessly. "This is what I hate about this, there's no clear answer to anything—"

Agatha saw him lean in and couldn't register the movement before she felt his lips crashing onto hers. Her hands immediately flew into his hair and onto the back of his neck. His gently grasped her cheeks. It felt so perfect, the way their lips melded together. It was soft, warm, caring.

He pulled away for a moment, face still so close to hers. They both smiled widely.

"I think we both want the same thing," he said.

"Mhm?" she hummed, biting her smile. "And what's that?"

"Oh shove off."

"Well don't you make me say it," she laughed as he leaned in again.

A/N:
I've been trying to write this chapter for weeks and have changed it five times. I decided to leave it quite short this time. I'm so sorry if it's not up to mine or your usual standard haha 😭😭