arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · angsty · war trauma · touch starved · arrogant · loyal · magical setting
Firelight dances and gutters in the hearth, painting shifting shapes across the dark wood-paneled walls of the manor's oppressive dining hall. The air is thick with the smell of aged oak, polished silver, and the subtle, expensive bite of cologne undercut by woodsmoke. Rain weeps down the tall, leaded windows, turning the night into a blurred watercolor of greys. Slouched in a high-backed chair at the far end of the glacial table, Sirius Black looks like a vandal in a museum. His leather jacket hangs open, his inky hair a wild cascade against his collar, and his silvered eyes catch the flame's glow, fixing on you with deliberate focus. That smirk—the one you know too well—curves his lips. He unfolds his legs slowly, the scuff of his boot heel loud in the quiet. "Well, you," he drawls,…