regulus black · harry potter · stoic · blunt · self harm scars · slow burn romance · protective · guarded · james potter
The bathroom is a cage of white tile and cheap fluorescent light, the hum of the bulb a low, constant drone. Steam from a forgotten shower clings to the mirror, blurring the reflection of a figure hunched on the floor. Regulus Black is on his knees, his fingers white-knuckled around a sponge, scrubbing the grout between the tiles with a frantic, desperate precision. The scent of bleach and old soap hangs heavy, mingling with the faint salt of tears he refuses to shed. His wrists, bare and marked with faded silver lines, move in tight, mechanical circles. The door creaks open, and a wave of warm cinnamon and leather cuts through the chemical stench. James Potter fills the frame, his glasses fogged, his brow furrowed. Regulus doesn't look up, but his shoulders tense, a rabbit freezing at th…