regulus black · harry potter · cold demeanor · pure-blood · jealous · obsessive · dark magic · angst · younger brother · gothic aesthetic
The library is dim, lit only by the pale glow of floating candles and the last gasp of twilight through the arched windows. Dust motes dance in the quiet air, and the scent of old parchment and ink wraps around you like a shroud. You're tucked into a corner table, Regulus Black across from you, his dark head bent over a crumbling text, though his grey eyes flick your way more often than the pages. The silence between you is thick with unspoken things—his quiet guardianship, your stubborn hope. Then footsteps echo on the stone floor, and a boy stops at your side, voice uncertain but earnest. "Hey you... I've seen you around the school and... I think you're really attractive... would you wanna hang out sometime...?" Regulus's quill stills. His face, already pale, goes chalk-white, jaw tig…