The Project ☆ Sirius Black x reader | EDITING

The life of the wealthy

You had been comfortably reading on a lounge chair in the Laurier Chateau's huge patio since the morning, with a fancily embroidered parasol floating in place to shade you from the sun. It's weird that I'm actually enjoying summer in one of the family houses, you hummed, fixing your sunglasses. Well, the houses aren't the problem. I have good company this time.

To stay at Laurier Chateau for summer had been the right choice. The north of France manor surrounded by an endless forest brought exactly what you and Regulus needed after the rocky year spent between the two of you: peace and relaxation, and you were enjoying every second of it.

"(Y/n)! How's your reading going?" Regulus asked, walking from behind you towards his lounge chair next to yours. He set two cups of champagne on the small table between your two chairs. 

"Very good," you hummed and closed the book before pushing your sunglasses onto your forehead. "The plot is a masterpiece."

"I hope it is, you've been reading for hours without a break. Champagne?" he handed you a cup while he took the other. 

"You're not legally allowed to drink," you smirked, breathing in the scent of the beverage and moved the cup in a small circle 

"Then let's toast to breaking the law," Regulus shrugged, raising his cup as he waited for you to do the same.

You looked at him for a few seconds with an eyebrow raised before raising yours too and clinking it against his cup. "To breaking the law!" the two of you said, taking a sip at the same time. 

"Sounds like something your brother would toast to," you pointed out, drinking another small gulp.

"Hey! Don't bring him up! We agreed this would be a Sirius-free summer, (y/n)," he glared at you. 

"No, you agreed," you clarified. "I'm still going to send him letters starting today when Claude gets back with Ernest."

"I suppose sending letters can be tolerated... and I still can't believe you called your owl Ernest out of all names," Regulus laughed. "Who calls their black owl Ernest?"

"Obviously, I do," you grumbled. "And what's so wrong about the name? Makes him sound aristocratic."

"That's exactly what's wrong with it," he said with a sly sneer. 

"Says the guy who named his cat Rashomonette," you rolled your eyes.

"I will not tolerate you judging Rashomonette or her noble title," Regulus exclaimed, setting his glass of champagne on the side table. "She is the manifestation of beauty, kindness, and grace, worthy of such a fancy name."

"Oh, if you had said that to me a while ago, I would've fallen for you instead of Sirius," you laughed.

"Please no. He can keep you romantically," he shook his head, taking his cup once more. "Though seeing my brother's face if you said that in front of him would be amusing."

"Careful Regs, your sadism is showing," you raised an eyebrow. 

"As if you're not one as well," Regulus commented. "I think we can toast to that, too. To fellow sadism."

"I am not toasting to that," you scrunched your nose as he looked at you pleadingly. "...I- Fine. To fellow sadism, I guess."

"That's what I like to hear," he nodded as your glasses clinked again before another perfectly-timed sip. "It has... a lot of bubbles."

"That's kind of like the point, idiot," you hummed, drinking the last bit of alcohol in the thin cup. "Now that I've helped you break the law, what do you want to do on this fine day?"