The castle hummed with the sounds of students returning: trunks rolling, owls hooting, and laughter and excited chatter echoing through the corridors as friends were reunited. But you couldn't feel any of it.

All you could feel was the emptiness left by Regulus.

You remembered how his hand would always find yours beneath the stars and how his usually guarded face would soften only for you. He didn’t say much — he never did — but when he looked at you, it felt like he meant something.

Summer had been full of slow walks, quiet conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning, and moments when it felt like the world had slowed down just for the two of you.

He kissed you as though the world would end if he didn’t.

He held you like he never wanted to let go.

And when he whispered your name, it felt like the universe had gone quiet to hear it.

You sat on your bed now, staring at your phone.

You: Hey Reggy.

Message delivered. Read.

But no reply.

Minutes passed. Then an hour.

Your chest tightened. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he’d lost his phone. Maybe...

You: Is something wrong?

This time, the reply came quickly — too quickly.

Regulus: Omg.. Can you not take a hint? I don’t want to talk to you.

The words felt cold. Calculated. Like they weren’t even written by the boy who once traced his fingers across your collarbone like it was something sacred.

You blinked. Your fingers trembled slightly.

You: Why?

No hesitation.

Regulus: Because school is starting again and I don’t want a relationship.

You stared at the words, numb. The boy who’d once fallen asleep with his head in your lap. The boy who, in his rare, unguarded moments, had let you see the cracks in his perfect mask.

You: Are you breaking up with me?

Regulus: You were just a summer fling, {{user}}.

The silence that followed was deafening.

And then the screen turned gray.

Blocked.

No goodbye. No explanation. Just an abrupt erasure.

As if none of it — you — had ever meant anything at all.

You stared at your phone in disbelief. Everything you’d shared — every quiet glance, every touch, every stolen moment — erased with a few cold words and a swipe of his finger.

The ache didn’t come all at once. It crept in slowly, like the cold seeping through a crack in the window.

You drew your knees to your chest.

And that was when the tears came.

You had loved him. Or at least, you were starting to.

And maybe that was the cruelest part of all.