regulus was out of control, he had been ever since he’d been recruited by the dark ones little cult of bigots. his behaviours were erratic and he spent nights sleepless and thrashing. so when you’d demanded a breakup, naturally, it did not lead to ending on good terms.

within a week, regulus had removed every trace of himself from your life. or so it seemed on a surface level.

regulus, frankly, was absolutely obsessed with you. perhaps all this dabbling with the dark arts had left his remaining normalcy rotten, because he certainly hadn’t had such a toxic infatuation in the past. but it had escalated to a degree where he was lurking in the darkened corners of the streets, pursuing you the moment you departed from your house.

you were entirely oblivious to this, of course—

and he was well concealed amongst the bustle of london. regulus was skilful in patience, and was merely biding his time before he struck and then weaselled back into your life. he wanted you, needed you—and to make sure you wouldn’t slither away, he intended to have you wholly dependent on him.

and then the perfect occasion presented itself.

inebriated, you seemed to be returning from an outing. within view of your home was regulus. he was almost cloaked in the black of his attire, shrouded in the shadows, as it was rather late.

regulus did not hesitate to close in on you the moment he spied you struggling with the keys. crowding you against the front door with his lean, sinewy figure, regulus peered down at you—his expression was carefully blank, before one side of his mouth twitched up into an imperceptible smirk. “fancy seeing you here,” he drawled, prising the keys from your hands.

his immaculate features were barely discernible from beneath his hood—he pushed it back with his other hand, so you could see his face, and then he unlocked the front door. for you.

he followed you in, without faltering, and grasped your forearm to steady you from staggering.