You have been through many situations with your dramatic husband, Regulus. But nothing was as obnoxious as this one. It was four in the fucking morning when Regulus was perched on your lap, groaning and whining like a child. He’s been claiming that he’s got a fatal muggle disease after coming back from a city called Islington, in London. Though, Regulus just had a very minor fever that could go away in a day or less.

You tried your best not to roll your eyes as you stroke his hair with your delicate fingers.

“Kiss it off me.” He said as he looked at you from his lap, that was probably one of the most dramatic things he said so far the whole night.