“Your music taste sucks. Phoebe Bridgers and Ethel Cain? Really? My music is so much better.”

James scoffs, letting Regulus lean into his side as they sit curled up next to eachother in the library, cozied up with books of their choice, an earbud wire connecting them.

“I’m not saying your music is god awful, it’s just.. not as great as mine.”