SOLSTICE

034

Cyril sat slouched in the corner of the train compartment, his long legs stretched out, one foot tapping idly on the floor as his fingers flipped through the brittle, ancient pages of the book in his hands.

“Look at him. So majestic, so hot, so charming—”

“Okay! We get it, Marls, but for the love of Merlin, please shut it!” Lily exclaimed, clamping a hand over Marlene’s mouth, her eyes wide in exasperation.

“Can’t help it! It’s like watching a Greek god in jeans!” Marlene managed to mumble through Lily's fingers.

The thing was practically falling apart—leather cover cracked and peeling, the title long gone, as if it had been passed down through centuries of hands. He wasn’t even sure where he’d found it. Some forgotten corner of the library of Black Manor, maybe? Or had it been one of the ones left behind in his father’s room? Father? Such an odd word leaving such an odd taste in his mouth. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that it held his attention like a spell, pulling him in deeper with every line.

A frown settled deep on Regulus' brow, his thoughts swirling like a storm. He could only guess that his son didn’t like him, but the reality was far more complicated. 

Cyril had spent his life alone, a solitary figure in a world that felt vast and empty. The concept of family had always been foreign to him, like a distant star in a sky he could never reach. Now, with his parents in front of him, he doesn’t know what to do? What to say? What to feel? 

Regulus watched Cyril, who seemed lost in a world of his own. There was a distance in his gaze, an unreadable expression that tugged at Regulus's heart. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap, but the words always felt stuck in his throat, tangled with the fear of rejection. 

His hair, longer than last year, hung in messy layers, brushing against his ears and falling into his eyes. He didn’t bother pushing it away. Let it fall. It was like some kind of shield, blocking out the world around him as he read. But occasionally, a strand would drift across his vision, and he’d blink, annoyed for half a second before moving on. His face, still holding the softness of youth, was starting to show the sharp lines of his future self—jawline more defined, cheekbones a little more prominent. But still, there was that undeniable boyishness lurking beneath the surface.

He was bigger now, taller than most of the other second-years. Not just taller, but broader, like he was growing into a version of himself no one else could quite see yet. His grey t-shirt clung to his frame in a way that hinted at the strength and muscles he possessed, and the jeans were loose around his legs, worn at the knees. He liked it that way—comfortable, easy, unnoticed. Well, maybe not unnoticed. People tend to look at him.

"I mean, why wouldn’t they?" Marlene's voice was filled with exaggerated awe, her eyes practically glued to Cyril as if she were staring at some Greek god walking amongst mortals. She leaned in towards Lily, her grin wide. "The bloke’s got this whole mysterious, broody thing going on. Tall, dark, and dangerous—just look at him!" She sighed dramatically. 

At this point, Lily just stopped bothering with her.