Jegulus: Oneshots <3

Tired </3

*It may be a little sad. Here is your warning.*

Regulus Black doesn't talk much. He's usually curled up in the corner with a book, or quietly chewing on his lip while doing homework.

He doesn't participate in class, and despite being the leader of Slytherin house, he rarely says anything at all.

And then there is James.

James is the loudest, bubbliest person in the room, no matter what.
He's always the life of the party, dancing on tables and laughing with his friends.

He's boisterous and arrogant, rarely ignored or talked over. And when James does get talked over, Regulus despises it.

But there are times where James goes quiet. Where he gets in his head, where he looks....disbanded. There are times where James doesn't talk for hours, times where he barely blinks.

No one really notices James' mood.

At least, that's what James thinks.

Regulus notices. He always notices James' heavy eyes, and dark circles. The way James sets his jaw and pressed his lips together silently.

The room doesn't change. But to Regulus, everything seems more somber.

Regulus quickly realized he was the only one who caught on to James' state. He watched as his brother and the other Marauder's danced around the common room, oblivious to the way James' spaced out and deflated.

Regulus was in the Gryffindor common room, sketching the layout of furniture while everyone was at the Ravenclaw v Slytherin Quidditch game. Reg was preparing for a prank. He was propped up on the velvety couch, his sore foot placed cautiously on the coffee table.

It should have been empty. Everyone should have been at the Quidditch game. So when Regulus heard steps on the stairs, he jumped.

James shuffled down, wrapped in a blanket. His jet black hair was a tousled mess, and his eyes tired behind his smudged glasses. He didn't notice Regulus, stuck in his own world as he sighed and grabbed his wand, which apparently he'd forgotten on the table in his cluttered state.

When James turned, he spotted Regulus, watching him from the couch. Sketchbook on his lap and pencil behind his ear, Reg looked blankly back.

James just nodded at Reg, too tired to speak. Regulus perked up, and James stopped in surprise when he heard Regulus' rough voice.

"Not even gonna question why I'm here Potter?"

James only shrugged in response before turning to head back upstairs.

"James!" Regulus called towards him this time. James stopped and turned back to the center of the room. "You okay?" Reg asked.

James raised an eyebrow. "Fine," he said gruffly, giving Reg a weak, half smile.

"You're quiet." Regulus set his sketchbook down next to him.

"You're not," James sighed, missing the independent silence of the dorm.

"Sorry," Reg murmured, looking at his hands and chewing his bottom lip. James sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean it. I'm just...tired," James replied weakly, starting back towards Regulus. He plopped himself down on the couch, still half wrapped in his blanket. He was in boxers and a long t-shirt, his pale legs scrawny in the bright lights of the room.

"Cool sketches," he offered, gesturing to the sketchbook.

Regulus quickly flipped it closed, but couldn't hide the proud twitch in his lip. "Thanks."