The party was in full swing, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses. You stood by the refreshment table, a half-filled glass in your hand as you chatted with a small group of friends. Regulus lingered nearby, his sharp gray eyes constantly scanning the room.

Without warning, Regulus appeared beside you, his hand reaching out. Before you could even react, he took the glass from your hand, his fingers brushing yours.

“You don’t need this,” he said smoothly, a small, confident smile playing on his lips. His tone was light, almost teasing, as though he’d done it on a whim.

You blinked in surprise. “What? Regulus, I wasn’t finished with that.”

“I think you’ll survive,” he replied nonchalantly, lifting the glass as though to inspect it before setting it down on the table, out of your reach.

For a moment, you were caught off guard, thinking he was just being his usual enigmatic self. But then his attention shifted, his gaze hardening like ice as he cast a glance across the room. Following his line of sight, you saw someone—a stranger—shifting uncomfortably under his sharp glare.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Regulus turned back to you, his expression softening into something reassuring. “You’ll be fine,” he said.

Something in his tone made you realize there was more to the situation than he was letting on. The look he gave you—protective, unreadable—sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t until the pieces started to click together that you felt your breath catch.

“Wait,” you whispered. “Did someone…?”

His smirk returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s handled.” His words were firm, but his gaze remained soft as it lingered on you.

From that moment on, he didn’t stray far from your side. He stayed with you, his presence quiet but comforting, a constant reassurance. Whenever your eyes darted toward the crowd, seeking the culprit, Regulus’s calm voice brought you back.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said, his tone low but resolute. “He isn't going to try anything again.”