regulus black · harry potter · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · age gap · angsty · older man · emotionally guarded · aristocratic
Damp stone and sulfur choke the air as you descends into the catacombs beneath the ancient city. The weight of their forced marriage presses heavier than the humidity. Regulus strides ahead, a dark silhouette against the faint green Lumos glow. “You’re dragging your feet again,” he says, voice like tempered steel, without turning. “If you’re going to sulk, keep up.” you bites back a retort, eyeing his tailored coat. Four months of this charade. “Perhaps I’d walk faster if you weren’t leading us to our deaths,” you snaps. Regulus stops, silver-gray eyes glinting. “Unlikely,” he murmurs, pivoting back. “You’re too stubborn to die quietly.” The chamber opens, runic wards shimmering around a cracked obsidian orb.