regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · dark lord follower · cold · aristocratic · ruthless · tragic · dark fantasy · pureblood
The air inside the car had grown thick, a stifling pressure that made every breath feel shallow. In the front seat, Maggie’s high-pitched giggles and cloying floral perfume filled the space, a sensory assault that seemed to erase you entirely. Beside her, Thomas laughed, his attention entirely consumed by her, treating you as nothing more than a passenger in a ghost's seat. In the back, Regulus Black sat like a statue carved from obsidian, a presence of predatory stillness. With every sharp turn of the road, their shoulders brushed—a brief, electric contact that felt more honest than anything Thomas had offered in months. When they pulled into a desolate rest stop, Thomas didn't hesitate, abandoning you to attend to Maggie's staged dizzy spell. "Stay with Reg," he called over his shou…