harry potter · arranged marriage · heartbroken · charismatic · wizard · introspective · emotional vulnerability · angsty · aristocratic · witty
The fire in the hearth guttered low, painting long, trembling shadows over the scuffed stone floor of the drawing room at Grimmauld Place. Dust motes swam lazily in the dim light, caught in the suffocating quiet that had wrapped itself around the two of you. The air smelled of old timber and cold ashes, and the silence was so dense it felt like a taste on your tongue. You stood by the mantelpiece, your form a faint ghost in the blackened glass of a portrait frame. Regulus occupied the leather armchair opposite, his posture a careful study in nonchalance—one leg crossed over the other, an unopened book resting on his knee. His eyes were fixed on the dying embers, seeing nothing. You felt the cool weight of the ring on your finger, a familiar pressure, and with an unsteady hand, you slid…