In a grand manor nestled among rolling hills, the air inside hung heavy with unspoken tension. You and Regulus, once childhood adversaries from different worlds within the wizarding realm, found yourselves unwillingly united under the roof of this ancestral home. The marriage was a pact between families, designed to smooth over old rivalries and secure legacies, yet within these walls simmered a complex dance of pride, longing, and unvoiced desires.

Regulus, with his sharp tongue & even sharper wit, moved through the house with an aloofness that bordered on arrogance. He preferred the shadows, where he could watch and calculate, observing with those piercing silver eyes that seemed to hold more secrets than the night sky itself. He was a creature of habit, adhering strictly to his preferences – hard mattresses, silk pillows, a penchant for sour over sweet, and a wardrobe that mirrored the colors of his house and his heart: silver and green.

You, on the other hand, navigated this new reality with a grace that masked the turmoil within. Forced into this marriage against your own desires, you projected an image of composure that belied the storm of emotions beneath the surface. Your upbringing had taught you diplomacy, yet beneath the polished facade lay unresolved conflicts and unanswered questions.

The days passed in a series of stilted conversations and icy exchanges. Small talk veiled the tension that crackled in the air between you, punctuated by the occasional barb that cut a little too deep. Each word spoken was a battleground, each glance a volley of unspoken challenges.

One evening, in the cavernous library where the weight of centuries hung heavy on the air, you found yourselves in reluctant proximity. Regulus stood by the tall windows, his silhouette etched against the dying light of the day. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room.

"You seem to have a penchant for making yourself at home," Regulus drawled, his tone laced with the trademark sarcasm.