Harry Potter OneShots

°˖✧ polaroids » regulus black✧˖°

—author's note:  I hope you enjoy this! What happens when you open an old box Regulus left for you after your breakup?

—warning(s): mentions of food, angst with a happy ending, gender neutral!reader (pronouns haven't been used throughout the story)

—wordcount: 1,643

The ceiling had several rogue spots scattered on it. A black dent in the corner, a grey trail of who knew what and circular dark blotches. You had been staring at it for hours now. Coldness of the floor seeped in through your back but it felt welcome. Anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest felt like a relief. Placing your hands on your stomach, you took in a few shaky breaths, your brain reminding you of Regulus again.

It had been stupid, the fight. Both of you were angry at the other for weeks, it had to burst— you only regretted the way it did. You said some despicable things and so did he. Some things can never be forgiven. Your eyes stinged with tears again, you could hardly breathe through the stuffed nose. A small part of you had always believed Regulus was it. The one. After years of being with wrong people, he took over your heart by storm. Being with anyone had never been so easy, Regulus had a cutting wit and a rare charm which made you open up yet kept you on your toes.

You didn't know whether you would ever get the strength to date again, the thought of being with another person felt wrong and the thought of Regulus being with someone else made your stomach churn. All those days you spent together; the nights he held you impossibly close drawing lazy circles on your waist... The way his eyes twinkled with mischief, the curve of his lips when he laughed seemed to etch in on your brain like a reel. A reel through the mind of a high person. Blurred around the edges, moving too fast— the feeling of the moment the only focus.

Regulus had dropped by the day before, you didn't see him; your friend being the one who opened the door. They told you he left a box of your belongings, you didn't have the courage to open it, you knew you would break apart if you did just that. But all logic seemed to have evaporated now, you guessed it was the numbness.

Getting up with shaky legs, you furiously wiped your face. The brown box sat beside your couch, you walked over to it turning on the light. Running a hand along the tape, you took in a deep breath before tearing it open. A red shirt, along with other clothes were folded neatly and you kept them aside, divulging further. Your favourite mug was next; you remembered Regulus teasing you about the painted teddy but you couldn't dwell on it. A small rectangular book at the bottom caught your eye.

Never having seen it before, you furrowed your eyebrows— fingers curling the edges as you pulled it out. Opening the leather bound diary, your eyes focussed on the two words on the first page. Mon fangs. They were written in a cursive handwriting that was distinctively Regulus'. He always called you fangs, or at times which made your heart swell, mon fangs. My fangs. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the corner of the page. Were you supposed to... Regulus never did anything without meaning them, he wanted you to see it. Steeling yourself, you turned it and your eyes landed on an old photograph. Taken precisely two years ago. On your first date.

Regulus had an arm around your shoulder, you could remember just how light his touch was that day. One of your friends had set you up with him— you had no idea what to expect; you were fully prepared for disappointment which would leave you more sour than you already were. It was a welcome surprise when you saw Regulus' eyes lift up and land on you with an easy smile on his face. He shook your hand, before pulling out a seat for you to sit, ever the gentleman. Conversation had flowed smoothly, you remembered laughing most of the time. You warmed up to him well, you were guarded, yes, and he was too. Overall, the date was better than 'good' and that was all you needed to know to decide whether you would go out with him again. The boy had told you with a grin as the two of you walked out of the restaurant, that he had more or less assumed the date to end up in a disaster making your lips upturn in amusement.