The silence between you and Regulus was thick, a palpable weight in the room. You stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to keep your composure. Regulus, on the other side of the room, leaned against the doorframe, his posture stiff.

“I don’t know why you’re still arguing with me about this,” you said, the frustration creeping into your voice again. “It’s not that hard to understand. I’m just—”

“That’s your opinion, but a fact is a fact. You cannot change that,” Regulus interrupted.

You let out a shaky breath, unable to stop yourself from stepping closer. “I’m not trying to change facts, Regulus. I’m just saying—”

“Not everyone has to agree with you, did you know that?” His voice rose, irritation slipping into his words. “Maybe you don’t have to be right all the time.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, anger and hurt swirling inside you. You could feel the tears threatening to rise, but you refused to let them fall. “I never said I was always right,” you muttered, voice small now, almost defeated.

Regulus pushed off the doorframe, running a hand through his messy hair. “This is pointless. I’m going to be apologizing in half an hour anyway.” He almost scoffed, looking away, as if the argument had already been decided in his mind.

“If you already know you're going to apologize, then why don’t we just skip all this?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He was quiet for a long beat, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter—hesitant, almost like he regretted what he’d said. “I... don’t want to fight with you.”

“Then stop shutting me out,” you whispered back. You knew he’d never apologize immediately, not in the way you needed him to.

Regulus didn’t answer, but you could see the flicker of regret in his eyes as he took a small step toward you, unsure but softening. There was a silence now, not as heavy, not as cold, and somehow, it felt like both of you had already begun to let go of the argument.