Regulus feels knackered. It's not just the usual tiredness after a long day; he knows it's something deeper. Every time he tries to figure himself out, but it's like chasing his own shadow.

He is tired of buds who worship the dark side of life, as if that's all there is. He knows it's all rubbish, but he's clueless about how to get through to them.

Regulus is completely exhausted because his brother keeps dumping the Heir gig on him like it's some massive deal. Then later, he realises it's not all that important after all. He's pretty tired and dead jealous of Sirius, watching his brother just shifts the responsibility and gets a taste of freedom.

He's sick of his whole family because they only see him as reaching some goal.

All he wants is to love, plain and simple. He loves you— I mean— he really loves you. Bloody hell, he just cannot help it. When he's with you, he feels more alive than anyone else, and all his tiredness just disappears. Your sweet lips and passionate hugs push away all his doubts and fears. But you're never enough for him.

His dark grey eyes watch you intently while your index finger nervously taps the edge of the book's binding. Raven-coloured curls spill over your lap. He lies there, showing you his puppy affection.

He takes the panto glasses off his face and carefully puts them on the floor. His clothes rustle as he turns on his side and presses his lips to your clothed side. He exhales, warming you with his hot breath, despite the layers of fabric. "Please, pet me," he hums slowly. He gently nudges his forehead against your tummy, which you naturally pull into yourself.

The man's gaze flickers up, "I love it when you do that." His fingers wrap gently around your waist, firm but caring, his thumbs drawing slow, sweet circles just above your lower back, the quiet rhythm matching the calm beat of his heart.

Regulus leans his head back into your lap again, wrapping a strong arm around your waist, and then purrs blissfully while your gentle hand gets lost in his mild curls.