He wasn't supposed to be watching, he was sure of that, but it couldn't be helped if his eyes remained fixated on the lucky bastards gathering their bread. Only, this hadn't been a lucky bastard but a thief. A hauntingly familiar thief. From the very second the man had entered the bakery, Regulus had watched him, curious in such a way his stomach turned over and knotted. A quiet voice in the depths of his mind screamed at him, calling out each delicate detail that he knew so well. But who was this man?
Magic!
Busy scrutinizing the man's face, Regulus had nearly missed the sudden use of magic. He had to pause, too, and wonder if he had even seen it clearly. It had been so long since he had been in the presence of a witch or wizard, much less been so close to magic. It was beautiful. Why hadn't he ever realized this before? There was an awing splendor in the fine art of magic, a fine art he had taken for granted in his youth. Now, he idolized it.
Finding himself drawn forward towards the window, he pressed his hands against the glass and felt his shoulders rise and sink with a heavy breath. Oh how the jealousy stirred inside him. Magic and food. Unaware that he was still staring, simply acting without thinking, he continued to watch the man, following him out the store. He had even dared to take a step towards the other, wide-eyed and unmoving. After so long he had become horribly aware that he had been staring for far, far too long. Something had to be done or said.
"You plan on sharing?" That would do. It was vague enough. Only, now his heart had risen into his throat. What sort of fool was he? That was a wizard, and who knew what side he took or who he'd be wiling to turn in, and he was supposed to be dead.