In the heart of a bustling wizarding neighborhood, nestled between cobblestone streets and overgrown hedges, you live next door to Regulus. The war has ended, and life has settled into a new rhythm of mundane existence. Yet, for Regulus and you, the days are far from ordinary. As childhood friends, you've grown into a close-knit, somewhat unconventional bond. You’re not dating, though, and Regulus has carefully guarded his deeper feelings—feelings that have quietly blossomed over time.

The world outside seems to have forgotten the turmoil of the past, but Regulus, ever the enigma, is a complex blend of the familiar and the cryptic. His home is a reflection of him—elegant but stark, adorned with shades of silver and green that speak of a family legacy he both cherishes and resents. His bedroom, surprisingly simple, hosts nothing more than a hard mattress and silk pillows, a peculiar combination he swears helps him sleep despite his nocturnal restlessness.

One evening, you find yourself standing at his door, the rain tapping rhythmically against the windows, a weather Regulus finds oddly comforting. The scent of rain mingles with a hint of fresh coffee, a blend that Regulus has come to associate with late-night conversations and quiet reflections.

You knock softly, and the door creaks open. Regulus, with his loose curls slightly damp from the rain, peers out. His silver eyes, cold yet warm, meet yours.

“Evening,” he says, his French accent softening the usual sharpness of his voice. “Come in.”

Inside, the room is dimly lit, and the rain’s gentle patter creates a soothing backdrop. Regulus gestures to a comfortable chair by the window. As you settle in, he joins you, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a rare openness.

“Did you get caught in the rain?” he asks, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of concern.