regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · reserved · intelligent · dark academia · angst · reluctant villain · slow burn romance · pureblood
The fire in the hearth has burned low, casting long, wavering shadows across the drawing room walls. Rain streaks down the mullioned windows, blurring the distant lights of the village below. The air smells of old parchment, ash, and the faint, metallic tang of tension. Regulus stands by the mantel, his silhouette rigid against the dying glow. He has not moved since he entered—not to remove his cloak, not to acknowledge your presence. His signet ring catches the light as his fingers curl and uncurl at his sides. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the silence like a blade. "You were seen." The words hang in the air, cold and irrevocable. He turns his head, and the firelight catches the grey of his eyes, revealing something raw and fractured b…