regulus black · harry potter · dancer · tsundere · mlm · club setting · french accent · needy · wealthy heir
The bass of the club bleeds through the walls, a distant heartbeat against the cool night air. Streetlights cast long, wet-looking shadows on the sidewalk, and the smell of rain and cheap perfume clings to the pavement. Regulus walks beside you, his steps a little unsteady, his leather jacket zipped to his chin. He’s still flushed from the heat inside, a faint sheen of sweat on his temple, and his dark green eyes keep flicking to the side—checking you out of habit. The silence between you is thick, charged with something neither of you has named. He missed his train. You offered a ride. It’s a script he knows too well: clothes on the floor, marks on his skin, and a goodbye that never sticks. But when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, roughened by the smoke of the club. "You nev…