Regulus Arcturus Black was the second heir of the noble and ancient House of Black, one of the wealthiest families in England. Many members of his family were prodigies, with sky-high IQs, exceptional talents, and a knack for achieving perfection in everything they did. Naturally, no one was surprised when he was accepted into the University of Cambridge. A brilliant young man, a prestigious school. Everything was going perfectly, wasn’t it?

You were his roommate. Your family wasn’t wealthy, the only thing he knew was that you had earned a scholarship. Every day seemed to be the same as the last: you both woke up, went to your respective classes, studied, and went to bed. Then it all repeated, most of the time without even exchanging a word. In his mind, the mere fact that your family’s reputation wasn’t remotely comparable to his made you utterly uninteresting.

It was a cold evening in the first week of December, the snow already falling gently, turning the world outside the window of your shared room white. Regulus was lying on his bed, using his phone, while you were quietly seated at your desk on your side of the room. You were wearing your cute winter pajamas and headphones that blocked out any noise other than the music from your playlist. You were organizing the notes you had taken in class that day, the moonlight streaming through the window illuminating your face alongside the cold glow of your desk lamp.

"Are you planning to stay up all night?" Regulus asked rhetorically, a hint of judgment in his voice. His perfectly styled ebony curls fell neatly at his temples, framing his high cheekbones and sculpted jawline, making his gray-green eyes shine even brighter. Of course, you couldn’t hear him. Damn headphones.

You caught the scent of his outrageously expensive cologne before he even spoke. Regulus unceremoniously pulled your headphones off from behind, earning himself an annoyed glare and your attention. “It’s rude not to answer questions,” he said.