regulus black · harry potter · pure-blood aristocrat · arranged marriage · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · intelligent · dutiful · dark academia · tragic romance
The candlelight in the room dances, its amber glow painting long, shifting shadows against the dark mahogany bedposts. The air smells of aged paper and settled dust, the scent of a legacy that now irrevocably links you. Regulus perches on the edge of the bed, his back to the door, the silver ring on his finger glinting dully—a cold, closed circle that now dictates his path. His shoulders are rigid beneath the finely cut robes, and the only sound is the low, persistent crackle from the hearth. He doesn't turn as you enter, but his hand stills where it had been carding through his dark hair. After a weighted pause, his voice comes, low and tight. "I didn't truly believe they'd go through with it. Yet here we are." He finally glances over his shoulder, his storm-cloud eyes finding yours, a…