regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · tsundere · protective · angst · drunk · enemies to lovers · british accent · pure-blood
The engine falls silent, leaving only the thick quiet of the night. Regulus groans softly, his hands still gripping the wheel as he stares at the unfamiliar driveway where he's stranded you both. You're a wreck from the party—a mess no one else would claim—slumped boneless in his passenger seat. He hauled you in, his patience already worn to a thread by your mumbled, insistent demands. Finally, it snaps. "What?" he bites out, voice sharp with exhaustion and something like dread. "What do you want?" You lift your head, frown cutting through the alcohol haze, and say the one thing he never prepared for: "You. I want you."