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R. A. B. has a precioussss; (writtenblack) wrote in anon_rpg,

The touch nearly makes him flinch (he doesn't, and it is only his eyes that become unreadable, as if he is bracing himself for-- 'as if' is a superfluous term, at this juncture). He doesn't blink. And yet abruptly out of the blue wholly unexpectedly, something twists in his gut and gives rise to a nearly irrepressible urge to stumble back, to split, to move away from her as quickly as humanly possible -- and really, it is unjustified because Jones is certainly not poking a wand into his throat (his throat still constricts, and he tastes ash at the back of his mouth. What do you call this kind of --?)

But Regulus remains perfectly immobile.
And perfectly rigid.

He could have been a statue made of granite.
A boulder. A wall. A blank slate.

He is not sure if the touch was meant to bring him closer, or to somehow signal that she means to push him away; he just knows it is supposed to do something, mean something, so just to be contradictory, Regulus does nothing. He is unsure where he had dropped the fag, or when; for all he knows, it may be burning holes into some unprotected surface. He doesn't care. Of course, Regulus does not care about a lot of things, and he certainly does not care about Jones, or how to spare her feelings.

Don't look at me like that -- my heart, I only use it for myself. (How could you--). I probably love myself more than anything, anyone else, now (is that true? no, it's the truthTruththeONEBIGtruth, because otherwise, it would be admitting to...)

He remains like that for a long moment, until everything stills and becomes cold again. And then, he moves (for a split-second, he considers taking her hands and pushing them back into her chest, wordlessly admonishing her for her misbehaviour, as if she was a child.

He doesn't.)

Instead, he takes a step back, enough to separate himself from her completely (and it is funny, because Regulus does not like retreating, and this speaks louder than any gesture he had made until then -- except, perhaps, when he...), to regain that balance, that distance, and it is only proper, really, so fucking proper that his mother would be proud.

I pray and hope that you will not hate me.

"Trust you? About Macnair? No. "

Regulus also happens to play dumb, most of the time.
It is extremely convenient, you know.