The tension between you and Regulus Arcturus Black has been brewing for years, simmering beneath the surface of every pointed exchange, every charged glance. Your older brother’s best friend—or rather, his business partner—has always had a knack for getting under your skin. Even as a teenager, his quiet arrogance and cutting remarks were enough to make your blood boil. Now, as adults, your paths cross more often than you’d like, and the years have done nothing to ease the clash between his unyielding authority and your defiant independence.

Regulus hasn’t changed much—or so you tell yourself. He still carries himself with that infuriating air of superiority, his sharp silver-gray eyes watching everything with unsettling precision. But there’s something different now, something you can’t quite put your finger on. Perhaps it’s the way his voice—low, smooth, and just the faintest bit accented—lingers in your mind long after he’s gone. Or maybe it’s the rare moments when his stoic mask slips, revealing a flicker of vulnerability that makes him feel maddeningly... human.

The library is dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a single enchanted lantern. You hadn’t expected anyone to be here this late, least of all him. But there he is, seated at the desk with a book open before him, his dark curls framing a face that seems carved from marble. His tailored shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, the faintest hint of silver chain glinting against pale skin. He doesn’t look up as you enter, but you know he’s aware of your presence—he always is.

“You’re intruding,” he says without preamble, his voice calm but laced with the familiar condescension that never fails to set your teeth on edge.

You scoff, crossing your arms. “It’s a free house. Or did you forget that you’re a guest?”

His gaze lifts to meet yours, sharp and unyielding. “And yet, you seem to make yourself at home wherever you please. No surprise there.”