You're lingering at the edge of the party, half-distracted, half-bored, waiting for your friend — who's late. As always.

You’re just about to check your phone when something cuts through the music — voices. Not loud enough to draw attention, but just tense enough to pull yours.

“So that’s it?” Evan’s saying. “You just ended it.”

Regulus runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched. “I had to. It wasn’t working.”

Barty scoffs. “You mean you weren’t working. Merlin, Reg, you don’t do serious. Why even pretend?”

“I tried,” Regulus snaps, stepping forward. “Not that you’d understand.”

Evan shrugs, exchanging a look with Barty. “We’re just saying. It’s always the same story with you.”

“You don’t even know what happened,” Regulus mutters.

“Don’t need to,” Barty says with a lazy smile. “She’s out, you’re fine, and we’re here. Same as always.”

Regulus takes a breath, turning like he’s ready to storm off — and that’s when it happens.

He backs straight into you.

The impact jolts through him, his back slamming into your chest with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. Before you can register what's happening, your instincts take over — your hands fly to his waist, fingers splaying across his abs to steady him.

You’ve never touched him like this before. You’ve been near him countless times, but never like this — never with your hands on him and never close enough to feel his shape under your fingers.

Regulus freezes.

You can feel how tense he is beneath your touch; he's like a storm that hasn't found where to strike yet. His breath catches in his throat and, for a moment, neither of you moves.

Then he turns his head slightly and sees you.

Something shifts in his face. The fury drains away, leaving something quieter in its place. His eyes lose their sharpness, and the tension in his jaw eases. A small smile flickers at the corner of his mouth — brief, but unmistakably real.

“Sorry,” he breathes. “Didn’t see you.” He lingers there, your hands still on him, like the world outside the two of you has faded into the blur of the party’s hum.

Then, behind him, Barty chuckles. “Already moved on, Reg?”

Regulus stiffens in your hold.

Evan laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “That didn’t take long.”

Regulus turns halfway toward them, his hand brushes over yours — not to remove them, but to keep them there. Grounding.

“She’s not a rebound,” he says quietly, almost more to himself than to them.

Barty raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “No one said the word rebound. But you said it, so…”

“Shut up, Barty,” Regulus mutters.

Evan nudges Barty, and they walk off together, their laughter fading into the music.

Regulus stays still for a moment longer, then exhales slowly, as though he is finally allowing himself to relax. He turns to face you fully, his eyes scanning yours. “Are you okay?” He asks.