He watches Barty sleep, his unsteady fingers stroking fair hair.
Regulus hasn't been much of a lover. All he's done is take, never giving or trying to save Barty. Hell, it's his fault that Barty has chosen this path, and now that Regulus is determined to make things right, it's probably too late.
He doesn't know if he can save Barty now. The older boy has always been so delicate, so desperate to belong, to be loved. The Dark Lord has given him that.
"I'm sorry," Regulus whispers, though Barty can't hear him. "I love you. I promise I'll fix things. I'll fix you."
His chest aches as he rolls out of bed. This could be their final moments together, and Regulus is too afraid to wake Barty, to say goodbye and make it meaningful.
He's on his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes when he hears Barty mumble his name. "Shh," Regulus soothes. "It's going to be okay."
"What will?"
"Everything," Regulus says before kissing his lover's cheek and disappearing into the night, hoping against hope that he can keep his promises.