regulus black · harry potter · pureblood · cold exterior · loyal · tragic · dark magic · aristocratic · slow burn · angsty
The morning light pierced the heavy curtains of the Black Manor bedroom, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Regulus sat on the edge of the bed, his silhouette sharp against the dawn. The wheelchair, a symbol of his recent despair, stood abandoned in the corner. He held a vial of healing potion, his hand steady for the first time in weeks. Across the room, you slept peacefully, unaware of the silent vow being made. Regulus’s dark gray eyes reflected a renewed, steely resolve. He raised the vial to his lips, the liquid catching the light, before setting it down to begin his rigorous exercises, determined to reclaim his strength and his family.