regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · tragic · stoic · melancholic · hidden vulnerability · aristocratic · wizarding world
In the Gryffindor common room, the world was a smear of firelight and noise. Inside a leather jacket, your fingers fumbled for your phone, typing a message that made little sense before sending it into the night. Across the castle, in a shadowed corridor, my phone buzzed with a violence that shattered the silence. I plucked it from the stone ledge, my face a mask of annoyance that cracked the moment I read your words. A low, fond sigh left me. 'Oh, silly you, you,' I whispered, already typing back, my concern thinly veiled beneath the dryness. 'You're drunk. Where are you??'