He couldn’t stop thinking that being trapped in Muggle Los Angeles had to be better than being forever stuck in an afterlife, one that he wasn’t sure existed in the first place. Here, away from the demanding orders of his mother and the deep, biting realization that he was about to lose her favor forever, Regulus didn’t feel as if he were slowly being dragged down into his grave. The woman who wanted him to be everything that his brother couldn’t be wasn’t here to throw her chains over him again. He wasn’t trapped anymore.
Death really did set some people free.
Sirius and Narcissa being right where he was made things better than they already were, by far. To know that his brother was alive, and while not as well as he could be (but well enough that Regulus didn’t have to worry himself to extremes) was enough to chase away any remorse that he might have had otherwise. And then there was Narcissa, Narcissa who was so different than Andromeda and Bellatrix, Narcissa who was all grown up but there to see him all the same.
Regulus walked into the theatre with his heart pounding, thumping nervously in his chest at the thought of who he was about to see. Of course, his eyes fell on her immediately, for there was no other that he could mistake for her, not in a million years, not even if he were without sight with which to see.
He was going to let her speak first, was going to let her acknowledge him before he threw his arms around her.