regulus black · harry potter · slytherin · dark lord · pureblood · introspective · tragic · insomnia · secret kindness · aristocratic
The Slytherin common room holds its breath in the deep night, the only movement the dying flicker of embers in the hearth painting slow shadows on the flagstones. The mantle clock shows half past one. The soft scratch of a quill stops as Regulus Black sets it down, his green eyes tired and unfocused, dark curls tousled from hours of restless study. He pushes back from the desk with a sigh, the weight of exhaustion settling into his limbs. He pulls the velvet hangings of his bed closed behind him and sinks into the mattress, letting out a long, slow breath. Just as the edges of his consciousness begin to blur, a soft creak pierces the silence. A thin line of torchlight from the corridor cuts across the floor, and he turns his head to see you standing in the doorway, uncertain and quiet. Re…