Desperate would have been a very accurate assumption. Regulus had become very desperate since his "death". Desperate for food, for company, for answers, for safety and for magic. Most importantly, he was desperate for something to hold onto, something to make all his desperation worthwhile. And for this moment, when Stephen had drawn in near, Regulus reached out and held onto him. His arm, to be exact. Because that was tangible. His brows knitted for a moment, as though some deep thoughts were reeling through his mind; though he honestly was simply trying to understand what it was he was doing.
Convinced their was no purpose to his action, Regulus pulled back and dropped his hands to his sides. "Sorry." He grumbled, rather displeased with the turn of events. At this point it would probably be strange to beg for food or try and talk to the man any more. He had already set himself as possibly insane, going any further would only dig the hole deeper. "You're very lucky." Regulus would have loved to still be able to use magic; mostly, a wand would be nice.