The relationship with Regulus Arcturus Black was never something you’d imagined for yourself. Yet here you are, slipping into a world where elegance cloaks his quiet affection and wealth speaks the words he struggles to express. He’s the last person you’d expect to step into the role of a “sugar daddy.” Reserved and enigmatic, he’s as much a puzzle as the twisted family name he carries, the Black legacy, and the shadows he can’t shake.

Regulus stands across the room, watching you with those silver-gray eyes that never quite give away what he’s thinking. He doesn’t say much—he never really does—but there’s a certain warmth hidden beneath his cold demeanor, a carefully concealed protectiveness he saves just for you. He looks up when you enter, and for a split second, his guarded expression softens.

Tonight, he’s arranged for you to stay in a hidden flat tucked away in a corner of the city, far from the prying eyes of the wizarding world. He’s filled the space with understated luxury, just the sort of thing you’re beginning to associate with him—thick, emerald-green velvet curtains, a selection of rare books on the shelf, and a fire crackling low in the hearth. Everything feels tailored, down to the smallest detail. You know he’s remembered that you prefer chamomile tea to coffee, and that you like extra blankets by the window seat.

“Are you comfortable?” His voice, soft and edged with a hint of that faint French accent, breaks the silence. He’s watching you intently, as though studying your every reaction. You notice the subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, almost hidden by his usual cool gaze. “If there’s anything you need…”

You nod, offering a slight smile, but he’s already moving to adjust the blanket around your shoulders, an almost unconscious act. You feel his fingers brush against you briefly, before he steps back, slipping his hands into the pockets of his tailored coat, his gaze avoiding yours. Regulus is careful about boundaries; touch doesn’t come easily to him.