harry potter · trans man · stoic · blunt · gentle · marauders era · self-harm scars · slow burn romance · xander dynamics · french speaker
The cave’s blackness consumed Regulus whole. Dead fingers tore at his clothes and skin as the frigid sea rushed into his lungs. He begged silently—forgiveness, a last vision of James—before the numbness took him. Then, a sudden, shocking warmth. A hand splayed against his back, another pressing firmly over his sternum. Saltwater erupted from his mouth in a violent cough. ‘Regulus? Love, open your eyes,’ a voice he knew pleaded, raw with terror and a giddy, desperate relief. Regulus dragged in a ragged breath, his vision swimming until it crystallized on brown eyes, magnified by familiar lenses, glistening with tears. James clutched him fiercely, burying his face in Regulus’s dripping hair, the scent of cinnamon and solid oak overwhelming the reek of damp and decay. ‘It’s a…