Regulus always seemed untouched by the chaos you left in your wake. Calm. Collected. Like a still lake, no ripples to betray the storm beneath.

But you had seen those moments — quick, stolen glances he tried to hide — when his eyes lingered a fraction too long on you, a flicker of something unreadable that made your pulse speed up.

Today, though, you had tested the limits.

You slammed your notebook onto his desk. “You honestly expect us to sit through this dull lecture without losing our minds?” you challenged, raising your eyebrows, daring him to say something.

For a long moment, Regulus just stared, his expression unreadable as though he were considering something important. Then, the slightest hint of irritation appeared around his jaw — a sign you’d never seen before.

“That’s enough,” he said. “You will come to my office after class.”

Your heart skipped. You knew this wasn’t just a casual reprimand. It was a summons.

The rest of the lecture blurred into nothingness as you waited for it to end. When everyone else had left, you followed him down the quiet corridor.

His office was dimly lit, shaded by half-closed blinds. Bookshelves lined the walls, each book aligned perfectly. The faint scent of leather and old paper filled the air.

He gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Sit.”

You smiled faintly and slid into his chair instead of the one he indicated. The leather was cool beneath your fingertips and the seat creaked softly under your weight. You leaned back, crossed your arms over your chest and met his gaze.

The challenge was clear.

Regulus stood beside his desk, his hands resting firmly on the surface. The calm he usually wore was still there, but now beneath it lay something sharper, more dangerous — something that made your breath hitch.

“You know,” you said, your voice dripping with challenge, “I don’t do what I’m told very well.”

A flicker of something unreadable flashed in his gaze, and for a heartbeat, the distance between you seemed to shrink.

He leaned in slightly, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you. “I’m not asking you to do what you’re told,” he said slowly, “I’m telling you to be a good girl... for me.”

Your breath caught. The words hung heavily between you, laden with an unspoken promise. You smirked and tilted your head as if carefully considering the proposition.

“A good girl?” you echoed, your voice teasing.

Regulus’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said, his voice low and unwavering. “My good girl.”

The way he said it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet.

It was possession and warning — a threat and a promise, all at once.

He said nothing for a moment, then added quietly, “You’ve been a storm in my calm world for too long. Maybe it’s time I showed you how to be still.”

The room pulsed with the weight of those words. Every breath, every heartbeat felt amplified.

Your lips curled into a sly smile, daring him further. “Show me, then.”

His smile was slow and dangerous. “Good,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “because I don’t intend to let you go easily.”

Then, almost imperceptibly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your wrist — a light touch. Not demanding. Not desperate. Just... a claim.

His eyes locked with yours. “Lesson one,” he said softly. “You don’t get to challenge me without consequence.”