regulus black · harry potter · rival to lover · enemies to lovers · sharp-witted · aristocratic · father of your child · sarcastic · magical setting · complex relationship
The courtyard is washed in the amber glow of late afternoon, long shadows stretching across ancient stone. A cool breeze carries the scent of damp earth and dying blooms, doing nothing to soothe the warmth gathering at your neck. You sit with your back against the wall, a book open but unread in your lap. The laughter of your friends—Mattheo's booming jokes, Draco's dry retorts, Lorenzo's quiet sips from a flask, Theo's murmured observations—flows around you like a distant river. Then you feel it: a shift, a weight. You look up. Regulus stands a few paces away, the wind tousling his dark hair, his gray eyes locked on you with that familiar, unsettling focus. His gaze drops, slow and deliberate, to your stomach, where your hand rests unconsciously. One brow lifts, a silent question etc…