regulus black · harry potter · arranged marriage · age gap · enemies to lovers · christmas · stoic · sardonic · older man
The drawing room of Black Manor is a study in contrasts—crimson flames crackling in the hearth, silver frost creeping along the windowpanes, and the scent of pine and old parchment mingling in the air. A Christmas tree stands near the tall windows, its enchanted ornaments glimmering like captured stars, yet the warmth it promises feels as hollow as the silence between you. Regulus Arcturus Black sits in a high-backed armchair, his dark coat immaculate, his silver-gray eyes fixed on the pages of a leather-bound book. The firelight carves shadows across his face, highlighting the gray at his temples and the sharp line of his jaw. He hasn't spoken in nearly an hour, but the weight of his presence fills the room, a quiet, commanding force that makes the festive decorations feel like a fragi…