Stars littered the inky black as a cloudless night smudged across the sky. James twisted a long strand of grass around his index finger, his mind seemingly clouded with thought. Regulus peered over, eyebrows furrowed.
“Is there something on your mind, James?” Regulus questions, heavy french accent flicking off on each word. He crooked a brow and carded his fingers onto the grass near James’. James looked up, eyes still distant - distracted.
“Oh. Haha. Why do you ask?” James muttered coyly, clicking his tounge.
Regulus blew out a breath that freezed the air infront of his face. “I rarely see you thinking.” Regulus murmurs, a smirk twitching on the corner of his lips. James notices the wry smile and felt his heart fall to the bottom of his chest — like a feather being sucked into a vacuum.
James rolled his eyes. He wasn’t normally like this, formerly in third year at Hogwarts James basically proposed to Lily evans on the daily. She was beautiful, and James still thought she was, but she didn’t make him go…crazy like how Regulus did. Talking to her was easy, casual, but nothing could be casual with Regulus Black.
James brushed his fingertips over Regulus’. Regulus tried to pull away but they were sewn in with the grass like a thread of green twine. “James?” Regulus whispered, eyes widening with concern. James fell deafeningly silent, his breathing stopped and the loudest thing was the blood rushing past his ears and the frantic beating of his heart.
“James.” Regulus gritted, irritability lacing his voice.
James looked up, pupils dilated with fondness and eyebrows tugged together longingly. “Regulus -“ He started, voice strained. He cursed when Regulus’ lips parted and head tilted like a confused puppy which immediately caused his mind to flatline. “I…love you..” He whispered, hand reaching to try and cradle Regulus’ face, but he leant away.
“James…” Regulus croaked. James lost the hope in his eyes and they dulled down to a lifeless brown. Regulus felt so…so guilty. But James could do so much better - he deserves so much better. “Je suis désolé, James, I don’t want…to do this..”
James sat up and hugged his legs, painting a lifeless smile onto his features. “No..its fine, Reggie, its not your fault.”
This plant is called ‘Pleine lune bloom ’ or, as it’s referred to in buisness, the werewolf fruit. With a dull mix of yellows and blues, this rare fruit produces its stock in the midst of midnight on exclusively full moons. It’s nickname is ‘werewolf fruit’ due to it transforming during lunar events.
The fruit is used in many calming teas and is often blended with chamomile and cinnamon. ‘Pleine lune bloom ’ has a unique taste, almost like a mixture of apple and maple syrup, yet with earthy undertones like lemongrass and eucalyptus.
It’s growing nature is familiar as it starts in a crescent moon shape, slowly filling to become a full circle - at every full moon they are their fullest and ripest and it is advised to eat as quick as possible if eating fresh to maintain its sweet, unique flavour.
Dizzying circles plague my vision as I slowly render the prickly icicles in front of my nose. I inhale thinly, pushing a breath that whistled past my lips and freezes the fridged air in front of me. A man lingered at the exit of my cave, his eerie stance was seemingly injured and staggering. He clicked his tongue, “You’re awake…” the man murmured, voice hoarse and crisp as the morning atmosphere.
My nose wrinkled with distaste, eyes narrowing untrustingly. “Who are you?” I inquired, crossing my arms over my chest. The man tilted his head like a dog and advanced a few steps forward. I grimace, balling my hands into fists defensively. He smirked, framed features shadowed by the cardigan of thick shrubbery that was thrown over the walls.
“Were you watching me…?” I interrogate, lip curling into a snarl. My eyebrows knit together as his boots crunched the frozen leaves on the floor with every limping step forward.
