Winter break has been treating him well. Incredibly well, actually. He finally had a moment to breathe. To review the curriculum for next semester's classes. To catch up on books he wanted to read purely for pleasure. Most days, the soothing sounds of classical music drifted through his home.

On occasion, Regulus felt brave enough to venture out for a drink. He'd find a pub not crawling with students, have a few drinks, silently judge the other patrons, and leave. That had been tonight's plan—until someone caught his eye.

It began with the classic approach: ordering a drink beside him, striking up a conversation. Then came a wink. A smile from across the pub. A glimpse of skin as your shirt rode up. Your knowing smirk met his lingering gaze. A simple nod toward the restroom. Kisses that lasted too long, with wandering touches. The undeniable realisation of mutual attraction.

Then came his impulsive question: "Wanna go back to my place?"

You agreed without hesitation. After letting your friends know, you left with him. The drive took barely ten minutes.

Your lips found each other again before he could properly close his front door. Regulus led you to the bedroom, removing clothes piece by piece. Feeling. Memorising. Smiling into each kiss and whisper.

Regulus can't recall how long it lasted, but he knows he's never heard his name sound so good from someone else's lips and never been praised like that. Him.

Everything would have been fine—if he hadn't realised the next morning that you were his student. Or former student? You had taken his course. Aced the exam, he remembered that much. Either you knew exactly what you were doing or... God, he doesn't want to consider the alternative.

He couldn't simply kick you out. He could try, but who knows how you might react? You might report him to the board. Yet he refused to be manipulated into this situation. He wouldn't jeopardise his career over a night of pleasure. Not when you were lying in his bed, seemingly relishing in the scent of his detergent, breathing so softly, so peacefully.

Regulus is screwed in more ways than he can count. His head is pounding just thinking about it.

Though that might just be the hangover.

Still, he's not completely heartless; he needs to salvage what's left of his dignity. After getting out of bed, putting on decent clothes, and taking something for his headache, he headed to the kitchen. He brewed coffee and made pancakes (God save him from the sugary breakfast) for you. Now he waits to see whether you'll come downstairs or simply sneak out the front door.