[He can't stay still, is the thing. He keeps pacing, leaving trails of dark shadow like smoke where he passes, slipping in and out of solidity. He knows perfectly well he ought to be patient, but every minute Sirius doesn't arrive is a minute longer to consider what's coming and what's already happened.]
[The locket. The bloody locket.]
[When Sirius does arrive, Regulus stops dead, pulling himself quite literally together, and presses his lips taut, his nostrils flaring for a moment.]
Come through into the kitchen. I'll put the kettle on.
[Action]
[He can't stay still, is the thing. He keeps pacing, leaving trails of dark shadow like smoke where he passes, slipping in and out of solidity. He knows perfectly well he ought to be patient, but every minute Sirius doesn't arrive is a minute longer to consider what's coming and what's already happened.]
[The locket. The bloody locket.]
[When Sirius does arrive, Regulus stops dead, pulling himself quite literally together, and presses his lips taut, his nostrils flaring for a moment.]
Come through into the kitchen. I'll put the kettle on.