There was something severely wrong with Regulus.

That had to be the only explanation, right? The only reason why his face seemed to flush with a rose hue whenever you did as much as walk past him or enter a room he so happened to be present in. That’s all it had to be; something incredibly wrong with him and his stupid, stupid nervous system. Perhaps it was a parasite. Maybe some type of illness?

No. No, he knew it wasn’t anything of those things, but he had to tell himself that the way you make him feel was due to some sort of . . curse you inflicted upon him or something. Something completely irrational, because Regulus Black would rather behead himself than go as far as admitting he might have just had a little thing for you to himself.

He would keep erasing the mental equations in his head that blared with a ‘YOU LIKE THEM!!!’ and instead focus more on the actual scientific reasons. Or maybe the magical reasons. He just had to, because this wasn’t like him. At all.

Anticipating your touch or arrival wasn’t like him. His heart aching in his chest and thundering away whenever you spoke or laughed with someone else that wasn’t him wasn’t like him. Catching himself admiring the back of your head (yes, he knows, it’s completely idiotic), wasn’t like him. None of this was like him, and it almost made him afraid.

Or ecstatic. His gut really couldn’t tell the difference between having the Killing Curse sent his way and liking someone.