cold exterior · hidden loyalty · school setting · enemies to lovers · possessive · calculating · aristocratic · secret relationship · dangerous charm
The common room is a sea of amber and emerald, firelight licking the stone walls and casting long, dancing shadows. Smoke curls lazily from a dozen cigarettes, mingling with the sharp tang of firewhisky and the low hum of chatter. In the corner, a game of Exploding Snap pops and crackles, drawing scattered cheers. The sofa—the one with the torn velvet arm and the ghosts of fifth-year burns—is occupied by your group. Dorcas paints her nails without looking, Pandora mutters critiques of passing robes, Barty’s voice cuts through the din, and Evan flicks ash into the grate. Then the door groans, and you slip in, late as always. Regulus doesn’t move from his sprawl on the couch, legs spread like he owns the space, dark curls brushing his brow. His eyes lock onto you, tracking your path…