sister · @black-brothers-microfic · word count: 847 · cw: trans person coming out (no angst)
'Do I look good?' Regulus' eyes were closed. She could feel a constant tickling on her eyelid, but she wouldn't dare to move.
'You always do, Reggie.' Sirius' voice was calm, soothing. She was so close her citric scent crawled up Regulus' nose and stayed there, familiar and comfortable.
'Yeah, really.' Sirius let out a low chuckle and Regulus could imagine that annoying sly grin she always wore on her face. She would have shoved her if her older sister didn't have a sharp pencil pressing on the top line of her eye.
Elton John was singing in the background and, in other circunstances, Regulus would have judged Sirius for her questionable taste on music, but there was only one thought on her mind.
She was doing it. They were doing it.
It was scary. She couldn't stop sweating and Sirius wouldn't stop yelling "stop moving your knee or I'll tie you up to the chair!" and blowing hair into her nose, making Regulus squirm and finding another excuse to groan.
Even if Regulus hadn't wanted to accept it, she had always known it would end up coming to this. After years of self-hate, of doubts, of pure and sour denial. After months of self-acceptance, of sneaky readings and overwhelming and sweet hope.
She had finally say it to Sirius.
'I'm one too.' Sirius had only answered, giving another bite to the chocolate bar she was eating.
'Doesn't it bother you?' Regulus then asked, anxiety running through her blood.
'Not really? You're still Reg, my Reggie, my sister.' She gave her one of wolf-like smiles, all full of white, shiny teeth.
And the word stroke him like a wave, soaking into her bones, settling in her heart.
It sounded so fitting, like the piece of the puzzle that had always been missing.
'I don't want Father and Mother to know.’
'But l hate having to wear those ugly shirts and trousers.’
'I can lend you my tops and skirts if you want.’
'But maybe they'll look too big on me.’
'I can ask Lily to stitch them up. Did you know she's a pro at sewing?'
'I want to try your red lipstick.'
'Oh, it would look killer on you.’
'But I don't know how to do it properly. Would it be too much?'
'Make up is never too much, Reggie. Want me to give you a makeover? We are alone until late today.’
And that’s how they ended up like that. Regulus sitting in the middle of Sirius’ room, the record endlessly spinning under the needle and Sirius humming while she did whatever she wanted to Regulus’ face.
It had been a while since Regulus’ had felt comfortable in their house. She wouldn’t even dare to call it "home", but Sirius made it all easier, always lighting the darkest corners and distracting Regulus from the horrible things that happened too often. She was her precious sister and, even if little Regulus hadn’t valued it enough, she was sure of it now. Sirius really saw her for who she was.
‘Okay, it’s done.’ Sirius said, and Regulus stayed still for a little more.
She was afraid of opening her eyes, of seeing something so real, so her, it would break her apart.
‘Don’t be afraid, Reg. I’m the best at make up, you know? I did James’ once and he loved it!’
Sirius was just trying to cheer her up, Regulus knew that, but it still worked. She felt confident enough too slowly open her eyes and focus her gaze on the mirror in front of her.
It was a snap, her eyes meeting hers and, in an instance, everything was in its right place. She knew she didn't need make-up or clothes or any material stuff to make her be sure of who she was, but seeing herself from this new perspective was another step taken, small but significant.
And she loved it. She loved how the dark blue eyeshadow intensified her grey eyes, how the soft pink blush enlightened her cheeks, how the red lipstick, the one that Sirius always wore and made her yearn for something deep and intense, fit her so well it made her wonder "why did it took me so long?". And as if Sirius had listened to her thoughts, she placed her hands on her shoulders and smiled at her in the mirror before just saying:
'Everything comes down to this moment, right?'
And she knew what her sister meant. Because it was not about some colorful powders on her face or about yelling it so loud all the neighbourhood would know. It could just be a whisper or even a thought, it would also be a feeling than only a few could get, and it was, of course, the comfort of sharing that moment with her sister and knowing that she would always be safe with her.
She hold the tears back and gave her sister a big, genuine grin.
