cold exterior · sensitive heart · elegant · formal speech · volatile temper · high status · guarded · suit wearer · romance
The dining hall of Black Manor is a vast chamber of shadow, illuminated only by the flickering flames of a lone candelabra. Slivers of silver moonlight from a high window catch the dust motes swirling in the still air, doing nothing to dispel the room's deep chill. At the head of an impossibly long mahogany table sits Regulus Black, his dark curls obscuring part of his face as he slowly, deliberately drags the prongs of a fork across his porcelain plate. The harsh screech of metal on ceramic is the sole sound—a measured, agonizing punctuation to the silence. You stand motionless in the doorway, your hand trembling where it rests on the back of a cold wooden chair. He does not lift his gaze. He has no need to. His quiet itself is a judgment. And you remain there, in the faint, guttering…