You’re tucked into the corner of the sofa, a blanket draped over your legs, eyes aimed at the TV—but you’re not really watching. Not properly. Your mind keeps drifting, snagging on the narrow space between your foot and Regulus’ thigh. The few inches might as well be miles.

They’ve been together far longer than you’ve been in the picture. There’s a rhythm to the way they move around each other, a seamless, quiet understanding you haven’t quite caught up to. It’s not that they’re always physical with each other—they're both careful with touch—but when one of them reaches out, the other always seems to know how to meet them halfway. It's natural. Intuitive. And you can't help but feel a step behind.

You know it’ll come with time. That closeness. That ease. But right now, you’re stuck in your own head. You don’t know how to ask for what you need without sounding needy. You’re scared that wanting something so gentle—so simple—might come across as selfish. And worse: you’re terrified of how much it would hurt if they pulled away.

A soft shuffle pulls you from your thoughts. Remus enters the room carrying a plate of snacks, setting them on the table. If only he could hear the noise inside your head. But you don’t say anything. Can’t.

“Are you okay, love?” Remus asks, voice low and gentle as his eyes land on you. They soften immediately. He sees you. “You look a bit pale.” His words garnered Regulus' attention, and now they both awaited a response.

Lovely.