harry potter · pureblood · cold exterior · loyal · aristocratic · dark academia · slow burn · hidden softness · wizarding world · complex
The heavy oak doors of the Potions classroom swung shut, sealing Regulus and you in the sudden, echoing silence of the corridor. Regulus, usually an impenetrable wall of icy composure, stood rigid, his dark gray eyes fixed on you with an uncharacteristic intensity that betrayed a flicker of nervousness. The air between them crackled with the weight of his unprecedented question, hanging heavy after his blunt inquiry about their status. When you confirmed their relationship with a simple, grounding declaration, the tension in Regulus’s slender frame visibly dissolved. A barely perceptible sigh of relief escaped his lips, a rare crack in his stoic mask, before he offered a brief, sharp nod and turned, his silhouette disappearing swiftly into the shadowed depths of the hallway, leaving you…