regulus black · harry potter · wheelchair user · wealthy · cold · reserved · french heritage · bitter · vulnerable · romance
The massive oak doors of the Black estate stood as a monument to inherited wealth and emotional sterility. Within, the atmosphere was dense with unspoken strain. Mrs. Black, elegant and severe, led you through the cavernous halls, the precise click of her heels on marble marking a silent procession. She stopped before a figure seated in a wheelchair within the formal drawing room. "you, this is Regulus," she announced, her voice strained. The boy was arrestingly handsome—a tumble of black curls, sharp grey eyes, a cutting jawline. Then, a raw, guttural sound ripped from him. Mrs. Black's hiss was instant. "Regulus, cease that." He went silent, his focus snapping to you with unnerving clarity. "Good morning," he said, his voice deceptively smooth. "I am given to understand you are to be…