TW: Negative self talk (omg ik its a fluff chapter??? whattttt???? I'm capable of that???)
Oh baby, baby, it's a wild world
It's hard to get by just upon a smile
Oh baby, baby, it's a wild world
I'll always remember you like a child, girl - Cat Stevens, Wild World
James
James Potter is a fraud.
James Potter is a liar.
James Potter is weak.
James Potter tries to be is kind.
James sighs, laying face down on his bed. Its dark out but he cannot sleep, still dressed in his Quidditch robes from earlier, and he can't bring himself to get up.
He should shower.
He should do his homework.
He should go eat dinner.
He should go check on Sirius and Regulus.
He does none of those things, because he's selfish tired.
He's not sure why.
He wonders how Regulus is.
The thing is, James tries, really tries, but sometimes its not enough.
He groans into the pillow, frustrated by his own inability to do anything, before he forces himself into a sitting position, and placing his feet on the floor. He doesn't have a reason to feel like this. Not the same way that Regulus and Sirius do. Heck, even Remus and Peter, and the girls, they've got reasons to be sad. James isn't sad exactly. He's just tired. He sighs, standing, feeling a little dizzy as he does. He fights his stupid body for every step, but he makes it to the bathroom, only feeling a little sick. That's probably not good. He ignores it, starting to take off his Quidditch gear. He stops halfway, the feeling of the fabric moving on his skin too much to handle. He shuts his eyes tightly, hands balling into fists. He hates this part, hates the fact that he's disabled and can't handle over stimulation. Or at least, that's what people say. He doesn't that ADHD is a disability, but most people do.
He stays standing in the bathroom, looking at his reflection, for a long time, before he's able to take the rest of his robes off, and turn on the shower. He sets the water to the perfect temperature, it can't be too hot or cold, and then he stacks his clothes for when he gets out of the shower. He waits for it to warm up, then steps under the warm water. Its good, it always is, he just has to convince himself to get into said shower. He washes the salty tang of Regulus's tears off his neck and shoulder, the scent of his shampoo off his throat. He doesn't want anything on his skin right now.
Once he's clean, and back to smelling like his mum's soap -rosehip and jasmine apparently- he gets out of the shower, drying himself off and re dressing. He feels better now, enough to go to dinner.
He takes a deep breath, walking out his door, and down the hall, knocking on Sirius's door. "Hey, Sirius, I'm heading down to the Hall, you two want any dinner?"
Sirius opens the door, looking a bit sleepy, and James can see Regulus laying in Sirius's bed reading a book, his soft black curls falling in his eyes. "Prongs you are a godsend, yes please."
James smiles, happy to help. "Any requests?"
"Hmmm, can I have some beef pho? extra sriracha please." James smiles, Sirius is predictable with his comfort foods.
YOU ARE READING
Houses of the Holy
General FictionRegulus Black has never been good at living. Ever since he escaped from his parent's house when he was 14, he's decided it's better to live in a cold, detached state, because he's good at that. Oh, and, he really, cannot stand James Potter. James P...
