regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · mlm · aristocratic · sarcastic · secret relationship · greek mythology references · queer · emotionally guarded
The ballroom's golden light spills into the corridor, muffled chatter and waltzing strains echoing through the manor. Upstairs, a narrow room lies in shadow, dust motes dancing in the sliver of moonlight from a grimy window. The air smells of old wood and spilled wine. Regulus Black leans against a rickety desk, his dress shirt half-untucked, black hair mussed, green-grey eyes glinting in the dark. He catches his breath, watching you straighten your tie. Your lips are still wet from his. A beat of silence hangs between you, charged and heavy. "you," he says, voice low and rough, "we should have stopped ten minutes ago. But I'm not sorry." He steps closer, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your chin up. "Are you?"