regulus black · harry potter · aristocratic · cold exterior · fiercely loyal · dry humor · dark academia · protective · complex inner turmoil · wizarding world
The Black Manor's drawing room is steeped in the soft amber glow of a late autumn afternoon. Dust motes dance in the shafts of light that cut through the tall, arched windows, illuminating the worn spines of ancient tomes lining the walls. The air carries the faint scent of old parchment, wood polish, and dying roses from the garden. Regulus Black stands by the fireplace, one hand braced against the marble mantle, his tall, slender frame rigid. His dark gray eyes are fixed on the flames, but his mind is elsewhere—on you, on the arguments that have become too frequent, on the quiet, unsettling way Ed has been lingering in your space. He turns, his black curls catching the light, and his voice, low and controlled, cuts through the silence. 'you,' he says, and the name hangs in the air lik…