𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨-𝙧.𝙖.𝙗

𝟮𝟴-𝗽𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀

THE MOOD RING ON JO'S FINGER STAYS A DUSTY PINK. Regulus places his hands around the back of Jo's neck, delicately, tips of his fingers sending goosebumps all over her skin. He presses his lips to the center of her forehead, then to her right cheek, and then to on her left. He kisses the tip of her chin, the point of her nose, grazes his lips against hers before pressing more firmly against them. He drags his thumb along the edge of her jaw. He intertwines his fingers with her with every step they take along the corridor. Jo rests her head on his lap as they longue about the Room of Requirement, some forgotten record playing.

Jo blinks up at him. Regulus stares down at her with a look of glossy admiration that she does not doubt mirrors her own. His fingers brush along the edge of her hairline, a soothing movement that would surely lull Jo to sleep if she was not so entranced by the way Regulus smiles down at her. Her heart flutters in her throat, blissful and tender. "Tell me something," she whispers in a thick voice.

His closed-lipped smile squints his eyes. Jo wants to kiss him again. She wants to kiss him all the time, now that she can. "What do you want to know?" he asks.

"I dunno. Tell me something about you."

Regulus snickers, fingers brushing through strands of her hair, starting at the root, stopping when the ends tangle up. "You know everything there is to know about me."

"Well, I hardly believe that," Jo counters, and means it. She thinks that she could spend every minute of the rest of her life with him and there would still be more to learn, more layers to peel back, secrets to unearth. And Jo wants to know it all.

A deep sigh falls from him, and he tilts his head to the side, hands never leaving her skin. For a moment, he ponders, and Jo wishes she could peer into his brain, see the thoughts as they rush through his head. He drops his head back towards her. "Did you know that I speak French?"

"Do you really?" Jo questions, eyes going wide. "Say something," she demands of him, biting down on her bottom lip.

From Regulus's lips falls an assortment of vowels, smooth and low, strung together eloquently. And Jo's never paid much mind to the French language, but as the words whoosh out from him, she finds herself falling in love with the euphony of it.

She swallows, amazed. "What does that mean?"

The way he looks down at her, it fries her nerves. She becomes liquid against him, melted, without a bone in her body. Regulus's eyes on her make her feel like she's never felt before, she is silky, soft to the touch. "'You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen," he mumbles, a slight flush to his cheeks and a rasp to his voice that makes Jo lift her head towards him, placing a quick gentle kiss on his lips. It is such a simple gesture, and it comes so naturally to her, and yet, it still ignites the same flame in her that their first kiss did. Jo wonders if she'll ever get used to it, get used to him, and almost hopes that she never does.

"Hmm. How flattering," she muses as she drops her head back down against his lap. "Though I suppose you could be calling me a detestable beast and I would never know the difference."

"As if I would ever," Regulus says with a roll of his eyes, and his thumb is quick to graze along her cheek. He's always doing that now, finding some way to touch her. Cupping her cheeks between his hands, holding onto her and pulling her close to him, absentmindedly twirling strands of her hair between his fingers, braiding them. He kisses her as often as he can, pulling her into shadows and stealing them when he thinks no one's looking, sweeping her up into his arms and planting dozens of kisses on her cheeks and forehead. It makes Jo giddy. "I've always thought you're beautiful."

Jo is unable to control the grin that spreads on her face. "Always?"

"Always," Regulus tells her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. It elicits a giggle out of her. "I'm absolutely thrilled that I get to say it out-loud now."