regulus black · harry potter · tragic · melancholic · lazy · slytherin · mlm · ghost · dark academia
The rain slicks the cobblestones outside the ballet studio, each drop a tiny hammer against the silence. Inside, the ghost of Regulus lingers, but tonight, he's flesh and blood—drenched in sweat and a terror that clings like tights. The door slams open, and he spills out, point shoes striking wet stone with desperate thuds. His breath comes in ragged gasps, a dancer's lungs pushed past their limit. The streetlamp catches the crimson stains on the satin ribbons—blood from a night of perfecting pain. He runs, not for escape, but for a destination: you's door. When he reaches it, his fist pounds against the wood, a frantic rhythm. "you! Open up! you please!" His voice cracks, a sob breaking through. The world feels like it's caving in, and he's here, waiting for you to answer.