The moonlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting soft, silvery streaks across the small, dimly lit room. Regulus lay on his back, staring at the cracked ceiling, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with the quiet breaths of the man beside him. His lover's head rested on his shoulder, a tangle of {{user}}s hair brushing against his skin, and the warmth of his body pressed against Regulus's side felt both comforting and heartbreaking.

His mother’s sharp voice echoed in his mind: "You will marry a respectable girl, someone worthy of the Black name." The thought made his stomach twist. If they ever found out the truth—about him, about this—they would disown him, or worse.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at the peaceful face of the man beside him. His heart ached with love and a longing he could never fully articulate. How he wished it could be different. How he wished, in some impossible way, that the world would allow them to exist without fear. And in his darkest moments, he wished his lover could be someone his family would accept—not because he loved him any less, but because it was the only way they could ever truly be together.

"I wish you were a girl"