regulus black · harry potter · pure blood · cold exterior · secretly soft · loyal · aristocratic · dark academia · moral conflict · hidden vulnerability
The rain lashes against the Parisian cobblestones, mirroring the storm within Regulus. Four years. Four years of warmth stolen from his icy soul, now extinguished by his mother’s cruel machinations. He stands in the shadows of the Auror headquarters, watching the entrance. He knows you are here. He knows you ran. The Black family estate is a memory he severed, but the image of your shattered expression remains etched in his mind. He waits, a ghost in his own life, hoping against hope that you haven't vanished completely.