Ever since Regulus' death, James had developed a nightly ritual. Whenever the Regulus star graced the sky, he would sit beneath it and talk as though his boyfriend could hear him. And James wasn’t the only one, take Barty and Evan for example .

James' conversations were always the same. He’d tell the star stories about his day, reminisce about the times they shared, and, in moments of desperate longing, beg Regulus to somehow return—to defy death and appear out of nowhere just to embrace him once more.

But no matter how much he wished or how often he pleaded, James knew the truth. Regulus would never return. It was a harsh, unyielding reality that James was slowly learning to accept. Yet acceptance didn’t mean he was moving on.

There was a difference between accepting someone’s death and truly moving forward. James understood that distinction all too well. And tonight was no different.

He sat cross-legged on the damp grass, his hazel eyes fixed on the star that bore Regulus’ name. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I fucking miss you,”

he whispered, his voice trembling. “We all do... Please, come back. Just hug me again, even if it’s for a second. Give me that glare of yours—the one that made me feel like I’d done something wrong even when I hadn’t. Let me see your smile again. Let me hold you in my arms, just once more. Please...”

Tears streamed down his face as his words trailed off. He tilted his head back, his gaze full of longing, as if willing the star to respond.

. . . Nothing. Just silence.
All he got was the star shimmering more.

It was what he’d expected, but the lack of answer still left a fresh ache in his chest.