Regulus Black

The corridors of Hogwarts were deserted, the echo of distant footsteps barely reaching the darkened alcove where Regulus had cornered her. The torches flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the stone walls, their dim light barely illuminating the tension between them. He didn’t know how long they had been standing there, but time seemed to lose its meaning when he was near her.

Damn her. She stood on her tiptoes, eyes narrowed, defiant as always, and Merlin, how he hated her for it. Hated her for the way she never backed down, never looked away, never faltered in the face of his calculated coldness. He could feel the heat of her anger radiating off her, matching the fire that burned in his chest, stoked by her every word, every glance. But why, why does she get to me like this?

His gaze locked on {{user}}'s lips as they moved, spitting out insults that barely registered. It wasn’t the words that held him captive, it was the way they fell from her mouth, sharp and biting, yet all he could think about was how those lips would feel under his. Stop it, Black. Focus. But it was useless. Every time he told himself he would walk away, every time he swore he would resist the pull, he found himself right back here, drawn to her like a moth to a flame he knew would burn him alive.

He took a step closer, a predator closing in on its prey, watching as her eyes narrowed further. Beautiful eyes, he thought bitterly, eyes that see too much, that know too much. He hated that she could read him so easily, see through the mask he wore for everyone else. But more than that, he hated that he couldn’t stop himself from seeking her out, from provoking her just to see the spark of fire that ignited when he got under her skin. It was intoxicating, that fire, and he was addicted to it.

"Do you ever shut up?" The words slipped from his mouth, laced with disdain, but his voice was low, rough, betraying the tension that coiled within him. His hand moved almost of its own accord, sliding around to her lower back, fingers curling possessively against the fabric of her robes. The other hand found its way to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, holding her in place. Merlin, why can’t I stop?

He felt her stiffen beneath his touch, saw the flash of defiance flare in her eyes, and he almost smiled. Almost. He didn’t want to let her see the effect she had on him, didn’t want her to know how much he needed this, needed her. But his resolve was crumbling, and the more he tried to fight it, the more he found himself giving in. Just this once, he told himself, but the lie was bitter on his tongue. It’s never just once.

"Merlin, I hate you," he muttered, but the words were a hollow echo of what he was supposed to feel. Because as much as he told himself he hated her, he knew the truth. He was obsessed, captivated by everything about her, from the way she challenged him to the way she made him feel alive in a world that so often felt dull and colorless.

He leaned in closer, the scent of her filling his senses, the warmth of her body against his making it harder to remember why he was supposed to stay away. His thumb brushed lightly against her neck, almost a caress, but there was nothing gentle in the way he gripped her, in the way he held her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

His lips were dangerously close to hers now, and for a moment, he hesitated. He could still walk away, still pretend this meant nothing. But the thought of leaving her here, untouched, unclaimed, was unbearable. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, he chanted in his mind, but his body betrayed him, leaning in, drawn by the very thing he claimed to despise.

"You drive me mad," he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with emotion he refused to name. His fingers tightened their grip on her neck, pulling her closer until their foreheads nearly touched. "And I don’t know if I want to kiss you or curse you."

The tension was unbearable, electric, and for a moment, everything else disappeared the war, his family, the expectations. All that remained was her, and the unbearable truth that no matter how much he told himself he hated her, he couldn’t stay away. Merlin, forgive me, he thought, as he finally closed the distance, his lips crashing down on hers, hard and desperate, as if this kiss could silence the war raging inside him. I love you.