Reckoning

[regulus_a_b]

The slim figure of Regulus stood unnaturally still before a solid wooden panel door, the pads of his fingertips almost touching the rough-hewn surface. His countance seemed devoid of expression, though upon uncomfortably close examination a small hint of something shined out through his eyes, shattering the well-maintained illusion of stolid

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[mischief_major]

Sirius heard the knock the first time--too soft, he knew, for either parent--and tried to ignore the way his body tensed at the noise. He glanced warily at the door, which was being knocked on again, and wondered what exactly to say. "Fuck off, I hate you," would be too rude (and, Sirius realized, somewhere, too dishonest); "Come in for a spot of tea," wouldn't be rude enough.

He settled for curling his fingers around the doorknob, steeling himself against the cold metal, and pulling the door open a crack. "What," he said, somewhere between calm and enraged, "do you want?"

[regulus_a_b]

Regulus faced his brother through the barely perceptible gap between door and frame, an eyebrow raised sardonically.

"To talk, if you're interested. If not, well- I'm not up for a duel or a brawl today."

[mischief_major]

Here it was again--that odd sensation where family and friendship started to chafe, where Sirius couldn't remember why he drew his lines.

Still, there were standards. Opening the door a little wider, he stepped back and waved a hand vaguely. "Come in."

[regulus_a_b]

The younger Black stepped into the room with an alacrity almost undercutting the mood of mild interest sustained by his expression.

[mischief_major]

Sirius raised an eyebrow to match his brother's, allowing a mask of cool indifference to slip across his face. He flopped casually onto his bed, pointedly not offering Regulus a seat, and leaned back to examine his ceiling. "You're the one who wanted to talk," he said, not allowing his gaze to drift. "Talk, then."

[regulus_a_b]

For a brief moment the corners of Regulus' mouth tensed as if to release a question in monotone under duress. However, when the dark-haired youth spoke, his range seemed quite normal and relaxed.

"I understand you are not thrilled by my friendship with Remus. Indeed, it's doubtful you care much for me at all, and I won't blame you."