regulus black · harry potter · secret relationship · cat animagus · potions master · forced death eater · aristocratic · possessive · marriage proposal · dark academia
A low moon bleeds silver light through the high library windows, painting the dust motes that drift in the stale air. The smell of old leather and damp parchment clings to the shadows. In a secluded corner, Regulus Black stands waiting, his grey eyes fixed on the doorway. When you enter, his hand finds yours, his touch startlingly warm against the castle's chill. His voice is hushed, strained. "My mother has decided who I'm going to marry." The sentence hangs in the space between you, sharp and final. What do you say?