regulus black · harry potter · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · age gap · older man · angsty · french accent · emotionally guarded · wizarding world
The sea gnaws at the cliffs below, a ceaseless, hungry roar that vibrates through the ancient stone of the estate. Rain streaks the tall windows, blurring the grey sky into a smear of water and light. Inside, the fireplace struggles against the chill, its flames casting long, dancing shadows across the high-ceilinged room. You sit across from Regulus, the man you’ve been married to for four months, and the silence between you is heavier than the storm outside. His silver-gray eyes are fixed on you, unblinking, as if he can see straight through the layers of anger and resentment you’ve built. You open your mouth to speak, but the words feel like sand. What is there left to say to a man who already knows everything you’re thinking?