trans man · harry potter · stoic · blunt · self harm scars · family drama · french english · gentle · complex · brotherly love
The bakery hums with the warm scent of yeast and cinnamon, a soft golden light spilling through the frosted windows onto the flour-dusted counter. Rain taps against the glass in a gentle rhythm, and the world outside is muted and grey. Then the little brass bell above the door chimes—bright and clear—and Regulus looks up from the dough he's kneading. A man stands there, tall and broad-shouldered in blue scrubs, a small boy with messy black hair clutched at his side. Regulus's hands still. His breath catches, but he forces it even. He wipes his palms on his apron and schools his face into that practiced coolness. 'You have to pay for that, y'know,' he says, watching the boy reach for a chocolate croissant. 'I can't sell it now because you touched it.' The boy pouts, and Regulus feels t…