Work Text:
“I’m a bad person, I think.” Regulus says, calmly, a little sad, but almost accepting.
No. Not his Regulus. His Reg. He can’t be a bad person. He isn’t.
“Hey, hey look at me.” James says, cupping Regulus’ face like it’s precious. Something to be handled with immense care. “No you’re not.”
“I am, James.” He says, a small, sad smile plastered on his face. “It’s okay.”
James feels sick. He’s going to throw up, surely. Because the boy he loves is stood in front of him telling him that he doesn’t believe he’s a good person, and it’s breaking James into a million little pieces.
“No. If you just try to be a little bit better everyday than you were yesterday, that’s enough. Trying is always going to be enough, Reg.”
“Trying is exhausting.” Regulus replies, defeated. He just sounds so tired.
James doesn’t like one bit of this. The idea that Regulus doesn’t see any good in himself is ripping him apart. James won’t have it. Not when he can see so much light in him.
“I know. But you can be good, Reg. You are good.”
“I don’t know if I want to be.”
*****
2 months later:
James loves watching Regulus think. He’s pretty. Oh so pretty. Even when sporting the tightest of scowls. But this one seems like a painful thought. James can’t have Regulus in pain.
“What’s bothering you?” The brunette asks, moving a piece of hair from Regulus’ face. That face.
“I think I’m going to get it.” Regulus says. Absolute.
“What?”
“The mark.”
No. No.
“I know what you’re thinking, James. Don’t try to change my mind. It won’t work.”
“You don’t want the mark, you can’t. What happened to trying to be better?”
Regulus’ face turns still. Cold. It would be terrifying if James hadn’t seen that same face light up whenever he smiled at it.
“I told you that trying was exhausting.” Bitter, a little bit sharp.
James can’t breathe. There’s no way Regulus will go through with it. He can’t. He can’t become a death eater. He won’t. There’s no way he will.
“If you’re not going to try for yourself, can you at least try for me?” James says. Regulus doesn’t look at him, so James takes his chin between his thumb and his finger, gently turning his head. “Please?”
“I don’t want to try.”
What? No, he has to try. Everyone has to try. That’s what life is; You try, fail spectacularly, and you try again. Because the next attempt could be successful, and success feels like climbing and finally reaching the top. And wow, the view is great.
“You have to try.” James whines, desperate. He’s not embarrassed, Regulus has seen him desperate before, and sure, he was having more fun in those moments but—
“No, I really don’t.” The black haired boy snaps. Chilling. “Look, James, you’re not changing my mind. So either get the fuck over yourself and grow up, or tell me now so I don’t have to waste my time.”
James stands up. Nothing is real. His boyfriend is sat in front of him, telling him he’s going to get the fucking dark mark. No, he’s not. This conversation isn’t happening. Maybe, just maybe , he can change his mind. Regulus wouldn’t let them break up, no of course not. James will change his mind. There’s no other option.
“No. I can’t do this. If you’re going to get the mark, I can’t be with you.” He blurts out. It’s breathless, raspy, obvious. This better fucking work.
A beat.
Regulus stands up, gathering his things. What is he doing? “Right. That’s it, then. Goodbye, James.” And he starts towards the door.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck . This wasn’t supposed to happen. Regulus was supposed to change his mind. Every fiber of his being wants to chase him out of that door. But he doesn’t. He can’t.
Because this was always going to happen. The sun and the stars never meet. Always at opposing ends of time. Never the right one.