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His fingers tremble, but sometimes they do that when he's cradling the sun. "I'm asking if you will. James Potter, will you marry me?"
James makes a small sound, the tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over, and he winds his arms tight around Regulus as he collapses forward to bury his face against Regulus' chest.

James deserves someone who will reach out to take his hand in a crowded room and beg for the chance to get to hold it forever, no matter how many eyes are on them, and he deserves someone who will ask whether or not they know the answer beforehand, because he's worth that.
So, Regulus exhales and does something very, very brave.

There's music, dancing, laughing, and talking. Sirius bounces around between everyone like he's having the best night of his life, and Regulus isn't entirely sure why, but he finds it entertaining in any case.
"It's because he's not sad," Lily tells him, hiccuping. Her round cheeks are flushed red as her hair, green eyes glittering with a soft haze of inebriation.

CIERTO dios me voy a matar ?????????

"Move, move, move," James chants, pushing forward from the back of the room, then fully just pushing Sirius and Remus aside to stride between them. Regulus helplessly breaks into a smile immediately, and James is already beaming at him, so the kiss that James sweeps him into is more smiling than anything else. "Hello, love. Hi. You're here."
Regulus chuckles quietly. "Hello, James. Hi. I am."

Regulus rarely initiates hugs with Sirius, even after all these months of therapy and mending their relationship as brothers. That's just not—him, really. Sirius does, though. Sirius will drop an arm around his shoulders, rub his knuckles into Regulus' head, shove him lightly, things such as that. He's an affectionate person, and Regulus allows him to get away with it solely because he's his brother.

But that's the beauty of second chances, isn't it? The way it flows both ways, the way it settles in, because they're not the children they were when Sirius gave it to him the first time, nor are they the children they were when Regulus took it off, and yet here they are anyway, forgiving and forgiving. Trying. Still trying, despite it all.

But that's the beauty of second chances, isn't it? The way it flows both ways, the way it settles in, because they're not the children they were when Sirius gave it to him the first time, nor are they the children they were when Regulus took it off, and yet here they are anyway, forgiving and forgiving. Trying. Still trying, despite it all.

"You don't have to wear it," Sirius tells him quietly. "That's why the box is there. I just...wanted you to have it, I suppose. Have it back, I mean, with a few minor adjustments."
"I'll wear it," Regulus mumbles, lifting his watery eyes to stare at Sirius. "I'll never take it off."

Sirius is very quiet as Regulus stares at the necklace, not even saying a word when he reaches out with the slightest tremble in his fingers to lift it out of the box. It looks the exact same, an oval pendant with a snake engraved into it, so incredibly detailed that you wouldn't believe a thirteen-year-old had done it. Regulus rubs his thumb along the curve of the snake, unfurling his fingers so the pendant.

morí

"And you just had to be first, didn't you?" Regulus asks, mildly amused despite himself. The reminder of the party that's being held later this evening warms him, even if he'll never admit it. Everyone's coming as far as he knows, and while they all love an excuse to get together, it's nice that they're all doing it in the name of celebrating him.

When Regulus was a child, before Sirius went off to Hogwarts, he used to be woken up on the morning of his birthday by Sirius leaping on his bed and shrieking Happy birthday, Reggie! at the top of his lungs, bouncing on the bed as Regulus woke up giggling and sleepy and warm, despite the fact that their mother was sure to be infuriated by it.
On Regulus' twenty-fourth birthday, this happens yet again.

<3

After all, Sirius loves Remus in every way imaginable. He tells him all the time. He calls him beautiful, draws him just to draw him, touches him just to know he's there. He lights up every time Remus enters a room, drawn to him like a needle points north on a compass. He does it like it's natural, even though Remus knows that he's not the easiest person in the world to love, no matter how easy Sirius makes it look.

As soon as Sirius opens the door, he grins. "Well, hello, Moony. You beautiful bastard, just look at you. Hi, I love you.

Remus is going to take back everything bad he's ever said, thought, or assumed about therapy in the abstract.
Newt Scamander runs his therapy sessions with puppies.

NEWT SCAMANDER AHHAKSJDLDK AJAJAKSJDKROIR FISPEIEO DIOS
...
ESTALLE

 "James, James, I don't. Listen to me, I don't. My place in your life is not dependent on your emotional state, or the things you can do for me. I love you, regardless of if you're happy or feeling down, whether you have the energy to run laps around the world or you can't bring yourself to get out of bed. You never have to be anything other than you, good days and bad days and all."

"I'm not always happy," James blurts out, then immediately grimaces. "I mean, I am happy. I'm so happy, love. I'm just… It's just that I'm not always a happy person like I pretend I am, I suppose. I don't like it, being sad, which I imagine no one does, but I've never really—I don't really let myself be sad. Like I have to be the happy one, you know. I have to make people laugh, but… But sometimes I'm just—sad."

Regulus smiles at him, a soft thing, so lovely. "I suppose it is, yeah. You've inspired me, you know."  
"Have I? How so?" 
"I have a plan for guests who don't know exactly what they want off the menu. A special they can order where they'll get a dish based on the color they're wearing—obviously with allergies and personal tastes kept in mind, of course."

QUE TIERNO HOLA???????

James tells Filius about himself as well, more than happy to chatter about his parents, friends, and boyfriend. It takes some gentle guidance for James to actually talk about himself, what he likes and doesn't, what he's doing for work and school. He gets so caught up in talking that he's at complete ease by the time the session ends, even a little disappointed. Yeah, he thinks. Yeah, this is going to be good for me.

"No. No, hear me out, yeah? Because art—make no mistake, I will always love art, and I will continue to create until I physically cannot lift my hands. But—and this is so very important—when I can't lift my hands anymore, I will still have you right next to me. No art gallery in this world compares to your arms, do you understand? If my hands fell off tomorrow, I would find ways to carry on. If I didn't have you, I'm

"You were brave, though. You turned out to be so brave, Regulus. I'm so proud of you," Sirius slurs out, leaning over to knock their shoulders together. They both tilt too far, and chocolate chips rain down from their hair.
"I'm—" Regulus hiccups again, "—proud of you, too. You turned out to be such a—just such a good person. Best thing in that house. Best thing out of it."

Regulus hums. "You did all that, didn't you? With me."
"Mm, as much as I could being only a bit older than you. I used to—I remember I used to climb into your cot with you when you would cry, and I'd—" Sirius huffs a slurred laugh, shaking his head. "God, I'd just talk to you until you stopped crying and started babbling back. Never knew what you said, but I just agreed every time. Carried on full conversations

Regulus hums. "You did all that, didn't you? With me." "Mm, as much as I could being only a bit older than you. I used to—I remember I used to climb into your cot with you when you would cry, and I'd—" Sirius huffs a slurred laugh, shaking his head. "God, I'd just talk to you until you stopped crying and started babbling back. Never knew what you said, but I just agreed every time. Carried on full conversations

Some ridiculous part of Regulus almost hopes that he'd been waiting, that he'd held on as long as he did for them, as childish of a notion that is. It's a thought that flutters at the back of his mind, and it's probably not true, but he feels like James would encourage him to believe it. The relief of believing the best in people, even those that don't deserve it.

si

"Sure, of course. Oh, and condolences."
"Thanks," Regulus mutters with a sigh.
"I have to go. Ring me or Barty if you want to go out and celebrate—or, I don't know, drown your sorrows."
"Right. Bye, Evan. And—and thanks for—"

DIOS

"I'm not. We're not. We left about fifteen minutes ago now."
"Well, your father apparently died ten minutes after." Evan pauses for an uncomfortable beat, then clears his throat. "I don't want to ask, but I have to ask. You and Sirius didn't, like, smother him with a pillow, did you?"

DIOS AKSJSKDK EVAN

"Good, because I'll never forgive her, not even for you. I can't do that," Sirius mumbles, looking away. "I can move on, I'm trying to move on, but I won't keep holding onto her."
"I'm the same," Regulus admits.

It's not Orion he thinks of being proud of him; it's Sirius. For the first time in a long time, Regulus thinks Sirius is proud of him, and he thinks he deserves that. Deserves the pride. He soaks it in and lets it settle warm in his bones.

no todas las personas van a tener la reacción que deseo y no puedo controlar eso. si lo que digo y tiene que ser por mi, pero no siempre voy a ser entendida y vista, y esta bien

He feels—better, though. Strangely, he does. More solid. More real. More of him, like there's still more of himself he gets to discover. He's been discovering so much of himself for so long that he didn't know there was anything else. He never thought he'd discover anything that he'd end up liking, but he likes this. He likes the man he is to stroll into the room where his father is dying to make sure he dies knowing

"No," Regulus murmurs. "It's a part of the Leo constellation, the one shaped like a lion."
Orion wheezes out a hum. "For Sirius, then."
"Who else?" Regulus asks, tugging his hand from Orion's grip and staring him down.
"I am your father," Orion points out.
Regulus just steps back. "It was never going to be for you. If it was going to be for anyone, it was always going to be him."

It's not healing. There's no closure. There isn't acceptance, or a grand mending of a relationship that never existed. The fact that Orion is dying doesn't change very much at all. Regulus asks him what cologne he used to wear anyway, because he can remember the smell but not the brand, and Orion tells him to ask Walburga; she's the one who purchased it for him. And that—in the end, that's what Regulus grieves.

:(