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Regulus sighed as he picked up his jacket.
“We are gonna be late if you don’t hurry up,” his brother barked from another room, “and i don’t wanna miss James’ performance, so move your ass and let’s go”
Why did I agree to this, Regulus thought as he walked out of the apartment he shared with Sirius; after their parents died in a “miraculous fire”, as Sirius liked to call it, the Black Brothers had inherited everything from them.
They chose to sell their old house in Paris and move to Italy, where Sirius met James, a handsome lad with brown skin and black messy hair, with whom he’d easily become friends, like puzzle pieces that just were made to fit together. Regulus had met James a couple of times, though never for long: James was too energetic, too loud, too extroverted for his liking and Regulus’ social battery drained easily, so they didn’t talk much. Regulus did learn though, in one of those times when James was being calm for Regulus’ sake and they had talked, that James was a violinist.
What he did not say was that he wasn’t just a violinist, he was the primo violino at La Scala Theatre, in Milan.
How does one forget to mention that, he asked himself, i would’ve understood just fine.
Regulus, like Sirius, had taken piano lessons since he was old enough to sit on the stool without risking falling down, and he’d enjoyed them, unlike his brother who could play without even practicing for months, but wasn’t interested in doing so; it’s not like Sirius didn’t love classical music, he just preferred listening to it instead of being the one playing, like tonight.
Tonight was the opening night at the La Scala Theatre, and James had his big chance to show everyone his talent; Regulus never heard him play before, but he and his brother were invited by James himself, and Sirius made him come.
As he walked down the stairs, Sirius started marching up and down in front of the door, because of both his anxiety and the cold air of December.
“Where’s the car? The driver said he’d be here at 5 but there’s no sign of him. Fucking hell, we are gonna be late and James’ gonna kill me”
“Sirius calm down, he’s waiting for us across the street, breathe.”
They got in the limousine quickly and warmth welcomed them as they sat down.
His brother kept on rambling but Regulus didn’t listen, choosing to watch outside the car window as they approached the Theatre.
Milan is so beautiful at night, he considered, but nothing compares to Paris.
Truth was, Regulus missed France and his old house, but he couldn’t tell Sirius. He knew it reminded his brother of their parents, and he wanted to forget them forever. Regulus stayed quiet, thinking about the walks he used to take through Jardin des Tuileries, and how he still hasn’t found anything here in Milan that could bring him peace like those did.
The car stopped, and the two brothers got out swiftly and entered the theatre.
Oh, he breathed.
Regulus had been to many theaters before, but he’d never seen anything like that before.
The first thing that came to his mind was red.
Seats, stage curtains, gallery walls; everything in that theatre was red. The balconies were white and golden, and the lights made the stage look elegant and somehow magical.
“I know right,” Sirius stated, probably because he noticed the stunned look on his brother’s face, “James told me how fascinating this place was, and the pictures definitely don’t make justice to its beauty”
Regulus tried to express his thoughts “I- It’s just- wow.”
“Yeah, I get it. Let’s find our seats, shall we?”
They got seated and Regulus noticed someone waving a hand to get their attention;
“Look, it’s James” he informed his brother.
“WHERE IS HE?? HI JAMES” Sirius jumped up from his seat.
“Sirius keep it quiet, people are staring” Regulus mumbled as he tried to become one with his seat.
“Let them stare, at least they’ve got something handsome to look at” his brother grinned, but then decided to calm himself down.
James just chuckled at the scene, his eyes lingering on Regulus for a second before he turned away and took his place in the orchestra, right in the front.
It was almost 6 pm when the lights started to dim and everyone fell silent, waiting for the show to begin; Sirius was fidgeting with his hands as all the musicians took their place and adjusted their instruments, ready to begin.
Regulus’ eyes were fixed on James as he raised his bow towards the violin. The conductor’s hands moved quickly and the orchestra started playing Vivaldi’s Winter. The piece was the most underrated of Vivaldi’s seasons in Regulus' opinion: everyone loved Spring, with its fun melodies and notes, but Regulus found it quite redundant.
After the first few notes, James seemed to become one with his instrument, his eyes closed and his fingers dancing on the violin, playing brief notes like it was the easiest thing ever.
Sometimes, as he played, the other instruments stopped, like they all wanted to listen to the violin that directed them all. It was a dance between James and the other musicians: he played and the others replied, back and forth.
Like a game of tag, James’ notes ran fast as the music tried to catch them.
Regulus thought of snowstorms, cold wind blowing away the few leaves that stayed on trees even after fall, and covering everything in white: the ground, trees, houses, people.
James' music felt like the wind, taking everything Regulus was and tossing him around, engulfing him in a cold whirlwind of emotions he couldn’t quite understand.
The younger Black brother couldn’t tear his eyes away from James, who now started playing a sweeter tune that lulled Regulus into a state of pure relaxation, his mind emptying of every thought except for one, a name:
James
At that moment, Regulus felt starstruck; all this time, he didn’t have to look for a place that could make him feel like his walks, he had to find a person. His face was probably a mirror of his thoughts because Sirius chuckled next to him as he watched him.
“What?” Regulus asked, his eyes not leaving the stage for a moment.
“Oh, nothing,” Sirius laughed.
The music stopped for a moment, James’ hands leaving the instrument for a mere second. Then, the music came back once more, slow and tempting, like snow falling down quietly, before James started playing furiously again, sweat shining on his forehead as he approached the end of the piece.
He was beautiful, glorious even. Like winter, James was fury and peace, excitement and silence, all at the same time.
The piece ended and James opened his eyes for the first time since the beginning, a grin blinding like the sun plastered on his face as he set his bow down; the theatre erupted in a storm of applause and the violinist bowed, taking it all, because he knew it was all for him.
As he got up, James' eyes locked on Regulus’ and they looked at each other, one with curiosity and the other with a strange glint in them.
The two brothers stood up from their seats and headed towards the musicians exit in the back of the Theatre, where James was waiting for them.
“Mate you were brilliant! I knew you were good, but tonight you were the best!”
“Thanks Padfoot, it means a lot” James smiled.
“Padfoot?” Regulus asked, and James turned around.
“Yeah, it’s a long story but I don't want to bore you with it,” he said, apologetically.
“I don’t mind” Regulus admitted, his ears turning red as the words left his mouth.
James then looked him in the eyes, and Regulus' stomach did a full flip; there was such intensity in his gaze and also something else, like a deep hunger, that made Regulus’ bones shiver from within.
“Oh”, the other just said, “Okay then,”
The moment ended when Sirius huffed.
“Oh God no, no, nope, I’m not doing this, where is Moony, Prongs? I’m not staying here with you two, no way”
“I think he is waiting for us in the pub across the street, like always” James told him, a bit annoyed.
“Okay then, see you!” Sirius shouted as he bolted in the direction James just told him.
“Wait, Siri- and he’s gone. What the hell did he mean by that, do you know?”
Regulus asked the other boy, watching him curiously.
“I have no idea, but I think i want to find out” James admitted, looking at him in the same way as before;
Regulus' knees felt like jelly.
“Me too” he whispered.
“Non hai idea da quanto tempo ti aspetto Regulus” James smiled.
“Wait what did you say? You said my name so you were talking about me” Regulus said, a bit frustrated he didn’t know italian enough to understand what James had just told him.
James quickly changed the subject.
“Don’t worry about it, shall we go see the others? It’s quite rude to make them wait”
“Yeah sure,” Regulus agreed, still watching him.
So they headed towards the pub, walking closely and talking to each other all night, and Regulus thought that maybe he had found what he’d been looking for, or even better.