[His hands go to the locket immediately, fingers wrapping around the sharp-edged glass and metal. He never takes it off, not unless he's going to try (again) to destroy it (and fail) (again), but. It's heavy. It's heavy, and he's heavy, the food and the familiarity of home making him slow and warm. Safe.
He can't stay, he can't stay long in any one place, he can't risk being found, but.
There's a tremor in his hands when he slides them up the chain, and it almost seems to weigh itself more, the chain pressing links into the back of his neck as he lifts, drags, pulls it off and lets it fall to the table with a dull thud much louder than something of its size ought to have.]
...don't touch it. I don't want it to hurt you.
[Moving fast, sharply fast, Regulus gets a dusty rounded glass cover, the type that should have a cake beneath it, and covers the hissing, whispering thing a little more firmly than necessary.]
no subject
He can't stay, he can't stay long in any one place, he can't risk being found, but.
There's a tremor in his hands when he slides them up the chain, and it almost seems to weigh itself more, the chain pressing links into the back of his neck as he lifts, drags, pulls it off and lets it fall to the table with a dull thud much louder than something of its size ought to have.]
...don't touch it. I don't want it to hurt you.
[Moving fast, sharply fast, Regulus gets a dusty rounded glass cover, the type that should have a cake beneath it, and covers the hissing, whispering thing a little more firmly than necessary.]