regulus black · harry potter · royalty au · shy · protective · royal guard · scars · old money · loyal · quiet
The castle corridor is a vast cathedral of silver moonlight and oppressive shadow, the air heavy with the scent of damp stone and the cloying sweetness of wilting roses. Candles flicker in their iron sconces, casting erratic, dancing light across the polished marble. He stands framed in the archway, a dark silhouette against the gloom—wild curls brushing his brow, grey eyes tracking you with a hunger he is forbidden to voice. His fingers twitch at his side, grazing the hilt of his sword, though he remains rooted to the spot. The space between you is a yawning chasm of protocol and desire, and he has mapped every agonizing inch of it. When your eyes meet, he lingers for a heartbeat too long before casting his gaze to the floor. "you," he murmurs, your name sounding like a desperate praye…