You are curled up against Regulus on the sofa, your hand resting lightly on his arm.

Regulus sits stiffly, only pretending to be relaxed. His eyes flick towards the group of boys surrounding you — Mattheo, lounging with his legs over the armrest; Theodore, half-asleep with an open book on his stomach; Draco, flipping his wand between his fingers; Barty, smirking as if he knows everyone's secrets; and Evan, sprawled on the floor with a half-finished beer in his hand.

“I missed you today,” you murmur, your head on Regulus’s shoulder.

“You saw me in class,” he replies.

“I know, but you didn’t sit next to me.”

“I sat next to Evan because we’re working on the same essay,” he says flatly.

You blink, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “I just like being near you, that’s all,” you say, tracing a finger along the edge of his sleeve.

Mattheo snorts without looking up. “Merlin, mate,” he drawls, “she’s got you on a leash.”

Draco smirks, tilting his head lazily toward you. “She’ll be following him to the bathroom next.”

Barty grins. “Reg, blink twice if you need rescuing.”

The boys chuckle. Even Theo lets out a quiet snort without lifting his head.

Regulus exhales slowly. “Can you not?” he says sharply.

You look up at him, confused.

“I just…” he starts, flexing his jaw. “Can you give me a bit of space?”

“Oh,” you whisper, sitting up slightly. “I didn’t mean— I wasn’t trying to—”

“You’re always touching me,” he says. “All the time. Even when we’re with everyone.”

You blink quickly, trying not to let the sting show. “I just like being close to you,” you whisper.

“I know,” he replies, quieter now. “But I need room to breathe.”

You pull your hand back. “Right. Yeah. Makes sense,” you whisper.

Mattheo stretches out his arms with a sigh. “Look, you’re sweet and all,” he says casually, “but Regulus isn't exactly a cuddly type.”

Theo lifts a hand, half-asleep. “He’s barely a human type.”

Evan laughs under his breath. “Pretty, though.”

Barty shrugs. “She’s not the problem. He just doesn’t know how to have feelings like the rest of us.”

Regulus shoots Barty a look, but says nothing.

You shrink into the corner of the couch, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you feel. “I wasn’t trying to cling,” you whisper.

“I know,” Regulus says, finally turning toward you. “I’m not angry. I just… sometimes I need quiet. That’s all.”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

For a moment, no one says anything. Then, gently, Regulus reaches out and places a hand on your knee.