The common room had grown quiet, with most students already in bed. You had a book open in your lap, but you had stopped reading an hour ago and the words had turned into a blur of nonsense.
Regulus noticed. He always noticed.
“You’re not much of a reader tonight,” he said.
You looked up, and found him watching you with his usual calm, unreadable expression - except for the slight curve at the corner of his mouth, as though he was already amused by you.
“You’re not much of a sleeper tonight,” you countered softly.
He moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. When he reached your chair, he leaned down slightly, one hand braced against the armrest.
“You look different in firelight,” he murmured, almost like a secret he hadn’t meant to reveal.
Before you could reply, his lips brushed yours... testing, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier, as though something in him had finally broken loose.
The rest of the night blurred into something you had only ever imagined... whispers against skin, quiet laughter muffled in the shadows, the soft creak of old furniture. The world narrowed until it was just the two of you. His touch was sure, his voice low and teasing. His lips claimed yours again and again until your head spun.
When it was over, you lay there, flushed and breathless, with his arm draped loosely around you. For the first time, he looked at you without his usual mask of indifference.
“See?” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. “I knew you’d be worth it.”
Your chest ached with something like hope. You wanted to believe him.
You didn't sleep much. Every time you closed your eyes, you could feel his hands and mouth on you and hear his voice murmuring in the darkness. By morning, you were exhausted, but the memory of last night made you feel more alive than anything else ever had.
You spotted him as always, leaning against the wall outside the classroom. He looked at you as though nothing had happened, even though your entire world had changed.
“Regulus,” you said softly, approaching him.
He glanced up, his expression unreadable. “Yes?”
You hesitated, clutching your books tighter. “I just… about last night. I wanted to talk.”
His eyebrow lifted faintly. “Talk?”
Your throat felt tight. “I thought maybe it meant something.”
For a moment, he only stared at you. Then, with a low, dismissive laugh, he shook his head. “You’re serious?”
Your cheeks burned. “Of course I’m serious. You can’t just-”
“I can,” he interrupted smoothly. “And I did. It was… pleasant. That’s all.”
Your chest constricted. “That can’t be all, Regulus. Not after-”
“I have a girlfriend,” he said suddenly, his tone almost bored.
You blinked at him, trying to process the information. “You have a girlfriend?”
“Yes.” He said it flatly, as though it meant nothing. “She doesn’t need to know. And you shouldn’t care either. We both enjoyed ourselves. That’s the end of it.”
Your voice broke. “How can you say that? Don’t you care about her or me?”
His gaze was cool. “No.”
He straightened his sleeve, as calm as if you were discussing homework instead of the night that had stolen your sleep and your heart.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he added. “You should’ve known better than to trust me.”