The first rays of light slipped through the narrow windows, casting a muted glow across the cool stone walls of the Slytherin dormitory. Regulus lay on his side, half-propped on an elbow, his dark hair messy from sleep. His gaze lingered on the figure beside him, their body still tangled with his in the rumpled sheets. He reached out without thinking, his fingers brushing lightly across the smooth curve of their back, feeling the warmth of their skin against his.

The air between them was thick with the scent of faint perfume and the warmth that still clung to their bodies from the night before. Regulus’ hand moved slowly, tracing the dip of their spine, the soft muscle of their shoulder. The intimacy of it settled over him like a blanket, quiet and comfortable. He could feel the steady rise and fall of their chest beneath his palm, the subtle, rhythmic beat of their pulse against his fingertips.

He shifted closer, his breath just a whisper against their neck as he pressed a slow kiss to the skin just below their ear, tasting the salt of sleep on their skin. The soft rustle of the blankets as he moved was the only sound in the room, and Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the closeness. He never thought he'd find a moment like this—where everything outside of this bed, this warmth, this person, seemed irrelevant.