The art gallery was sleek and modern, a warm golden glow casting over London’s elite all gathered to sip champagne and discuss art in voices just loud enough to be heard but never loud enough to be disruptive.

Sirius didn’t belong here.

But Regulus had asked, that alone is enough.

He spotted his younger brother across the room standing beside his painting—dark something raw lurking beneath the layers, It was Honest.

“You came” Regulus murmured when Sirius approached.

Sirius smirked “I did”

Something in Regulus’s shoulders loosened. “It could have been better”

Sirius shook his head. “I think it’s brilliant”

Regulus hesitated, “Thanks” A pause “I’m glad you came”

Sirius clapped him on the shoulder and Regulus turned away saying a quick goodbye retreating into the crowd.

Sirius wandered.

That’s when he saw it. A painting Large bold swirling golds and deep reds a riot of movement that stood in sharp contrast to the delicate carefully curated pieces surrounding it He tilted his head. “This is a bit much isn’t it?”

A voice behind him crisp and unimpressed cut through the air.

“Excuse me?”

Sirius turned.

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Poised Elegant The very picture of the world he had sworn to leave behind A glass of champagne balanced effortlessly between your fingers. Everything about you was polished refined—except for your eyes sharp and knowing.

And judging by the way you were looking at him he had just insulted your painting, Sirius smirked. “Just saying—it’s a bit dramatic”

Your lips parted slightly as if debating whether or not to be offended “It’s supposed to be evocative”

“Oh it’s evoking something alright”

A beat of silence Then to his utter surprise you laughed It was soft unexpected. it made Sirius want to hear it again.

“You must be Regulus brother” you said finally

“That obvious?”

“Your reputation precedes you.”

“And here I thought I was keeping a low profile.”

You glanced at his leather jacket his scuffed boots the way he stood like he was ready to bolt at any moment “You’re doing a terrible job."