Glacial Passion (9/?)
Regulus Black/Reader
Rating: E for Everyone
Trigger Warning: Arranged Marriage, angst, swearing occasionally
Word Count: 2059
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Summary: Glacial, cold, icy… all words that described Regulus Black’s grey eyes. Was there truly no emotion behind those eyes, or did a caring man exist beneath? Could she defrost those glacial eyes?
Disclaimer: Regulus Black (Walburga Black, Orion Black, and Sirius Black) is a character from Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. Reader or y/n is not owned by Rowling. This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.
Notes: Okay so I feel rushed 24/7 with this fanfic because of my schedule. I hope you all like it! I rewrote this like 5 times ugh! aha
Enjoy
Visitors at nine o'clock at night was far from uncommon for Sirius Black. But, he usually expected said visitors to arrive with him, hopefully after a wonderful night out drinking and dancing. Visitors that arrived at nine o'clock at night and by themselves were quite an uncommon occurrence at Number Five Godric Lane.
Sirius opens the door at the second knock. The figures of his younger brother and a young woman standing on his front porch both looking gloomy.
"Regulus?" The girl looks younger than his brother, very attractive-- well, she would be, he assumes, if she weren't wearing a scowl that rivaled Regulus's cloudy expression. Sirius leans against his door frame, crossing his arms against his chest nonchalantly, "And you must be (y/n)."
(y/n) opens her mouth to respond, but Regulus cuts her off before she can confirm or deny his statement, "Can we stay here?" The interruption seems to piss her off further, her anger coming off her in waves as she stares daggers at Regulus.
Sirius looks between the young couple for a beat, "I-- sure? But why are you here? What happened?"
"Walburga." Regulus steps forwards to enter, prompting Sirius to move out of the way of his brother and sister-in-law. (y/n) gives him an apologetic look but doesn't say anything as she follows her husband into the small space of Sirius's living room.
He wonders what Regulus has done to piss his wife off so thoroughly as he watches them take a seat on his couch, Regulus somewhere near the middle cushion and (y/n) as far to the right as she possibly can be without sitting on the armrest.
Sirius sits adjacent to them in the comfy reclining chair. After a moment of silence, he sighs, "So, are you going to tell me what's happened?"
"We'll only be here for a couple of days at the least. There was no way we could spend another night-- there."
"I don't care how long you stay. Stay as long as you need to." Sirius looks at (y/n), who still has not said a word to him or Regulus. She's not even looking at either of them, her lips drawn tight and her fingers neatly folded together on her lap. "Were you disowned?"
Regulus's eyes meet his, "No. Can we talk in the kitchen? Just for a moment."
"Sure," Sirius stands up, "I've been rude, though. (y/n) would you like anything to drink?"
The girl's eyes meet his, "Water would be fine, thank you."
"I'll be right back with your water." He leads Regulus into the small kitchen.
"Why are you speaking to me with your wife not present? And what happened anyway?" Sirius opens the cabinet, reaching for a glass as he speaks.
"I wasn't disowned specifically because of (y/n). I know it's the truth. Walburga thinks she's possibly pregnant, and besides, I am sure my father-in-law would be furious to find out our parents ruined his daughter's future over me."
"Is she?" Sirius asks as the glass overflows as he fills it.
"Is she what?"
Sirius rolls his eyes, "Is your wife pregnant?" Honestly, he can understand why (y/n) may be annoyed with Regulus. His little brother was always so distracted by his own thoughts he could hardly converse at a normal rate. Skipping over questions and statements, eager to give his take or changing the subject. He could sometimes be exhausting to talk to, especially if you weren't used to Regulus and his ways.
Regulus scoffs as if Sirius was an idiot to suggest such a thing, "I've never failed to cast a contraceptive charm before. It's just an inkling the woman has, hoping that even as I continue to put up a fight against her ridiculous opinions on how my-- my relationship should look, or how it should operate. Of course, when she suggested that... conceiving an heir was a family matter, I told her it wasn't any of her business. Which she didn't like, at all."
"So you're hanging on as the heir because she's convinced (y/n) is carrying your heir?" Regulus makes a face, the only convincing Sirius needed that he wasn't telling him the complete truth.
"I assume that's what she thinks. You know Walburga. She's convinced sex is strictly reproductive."
Sirius chuckles, "talk about your sex life much with dear old mum, eh Reggie?"
Regulus's frown deepens. Oh, how his younger sibling hated teasing, "of course not. She's become a complete nutter about my private matters. I don't even know how she figured out I was using the charm."
"Well, she is a nutter. Maybe she has Kreacher following you around." It's meant as a joke, but Regulus seems to question if there's some truth in the words. "Oh, c'mon Regulus. Wouldn't you notice the little creep if he had been what-- hiding underneath the bed?" Sirius stifles a laugh. Imagining the little gremlin sneaking into Regulus's bedroom to spy on him from under the bed. The image of Kreacher under the bed, the springs of the bed, knocking against his lumpy head.
"It's not funny. That's entirely possible--" Regulus takes the glass from Sirius's hand, downing it in one go.
"Hey! That was for (y/n)!"
In a very not-raised-by-Walburga-Black manner, Regulus wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, nearly slamming the glass on the countertop, "You can refill it."
Sirius mutters something about Regulus being a 'little git' as he refills the glass and pushing past Regulus to bring the glass to (y/n).
"Here you go." The younger woman takes the glass from him, smiling. The smile seems false in his opinion, her eyes immensely sad.
Sirius practically scurries back to his chair, "right-- so all I have to offer is a couch, which I suppose we can transfigure into a bed? Hopefully, that's okay?" His eyes meet (y/n)'s ignoring a sulking Regulus who sits down next to his wife.
"Of course. Thank you." (y/n) stands, looking at Regulus, "Do you mind?" He scowls but gets up off the couch, shuffling towards Sirius. Both brothers watch as (y/n) pulls her wand from her sleeve.
With an elegant flick of her wand, the couch transforms into a comfortable-looking bed large enough to fit two adults.
Looking pleased with her work, (y/n) sits back on the edge of the bed. Almost reluctantly, Regulus sits on the side of the bed (y/n) isn't occupying.
Again, Sirius has the desire to laugh. Clearly, there has been some sort of spat between the couple. Their mother's rudeness can't be the only thing that's got the couple this worked up.
The uncomfortable silence that overcomes the three of them is unbearable. In an attempt to put an end to the awkwardness, Sirius, with a grin, speaks, "I'm still baffled that I didn't get a wedding invitation."
Neither (y/n) nor Regulus look amused by his words.
"This is not the time, Sirius." If looks could kill, Regulus would have surely ended his life.
***
Undoubtedly, Regulus and Sirius shared DNA. I ponder the similarities between my husband and his older brother as I get ready for bed. They both have the same piercing grey eyes and deep brown hair. But their differences could be plainly seen as well. Regulus is a tad bit taller and far skinnier than Sirius. And Sirius's hair is much longer.
Even as their faces share similarities, Regulus always seems to wear a frown while Sirius clearly had an air of ease. Funnily enough, the frown that Regulus wears doesn't match the woman you'd think he would resemble, as Sirius was the one who favored his mother's sharp features. Regulus had clearly inherited Orion's bone structure.
Undoubtedly though, both men were attractive in their own way.
Spitting toothpaste into the basin, I make a face when the thought pops in my head that I find Regulus more handsome than his brother.
I suppose I am allowed to be biased, or at least should be biased, as I'm married to Regulus, but-- I feel silly thinking about this.
Walking back into the makeshift bedroom, I pass Regulus, who doesn't even meet my eye. We've barely spoken since we arrived in Godric's Hollow, only passing looks of anger between us. Part of me longs to reach out and grab his arm, tell him I overreacted, that I'm sorry... but am I really sorry? Or was I just longing for him to whisper sweet things as he held me in bed how he has for the past weeks? I certainly could go one night, or maybe even a few, without his touch.
Unfortunately, I very much wanted him to play the loving husband again. I wanted to listen to his stories and comfort him when painful memories were brought up. I wanted to kiss him in all the ways we could think. Soft and sensual, deep and unforgiving... I wanted the goodnight kisses and the sleepy morning ones.
I obviously-- I don't love him, not yet. Maybe never if this rollercoaster of hot and cold continues on with us. But I did find myself craving affection and attention from Regulus in a way that would suggest feelings had been developing.
And Gods, did I hope that he felt at least an inkling of these developing feelings of mine. Regulus could be soft and sweet in moments, but part of me wondered if he only felt something for me when I was beneath him. It-- was a thought that had begun to plague my mind as our honeymoon had taken a turn for the better.
I had no proof that he didn't have budding feelings for me; I ultimately felt insecure because of that fight.
The way he spoke to me reminded me of every time I was scolded by my parents or grandmother. Like I was a dumb child who didn't have a say in a decision like practically running away from home-- his home.
Climbing into bed, I pull the blanket up towards my chin. The curtains aren't completely drawn, leaving an opening for a sliver of moon to be seen.
I feel my eyes grow tired as I focus on the moon's illumination.
***
Regulus makes his way back into the living room, meaning to discuss their spat. Guilt had sat in the back of his mind since their argument, but he needed her to realize that the anger he showed hadn't been aimed at her. It was stupid to assume that she would just know and understand the history between himself and his parents, and why wouldn't she assume he was attacking her when he raised his voice?
Part of Regulus had hoped she would just understand, and he wouldn't have to explain the rocky relationship between his family to her. (y/n) could be incredibly understanding, but she wasn't a mind reader. He had been unfair.
The carefully crafted apology he had rehearsed in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth sat at the tip of his tongue, dying instantly when he noticed her already under the covers of their makeshift bed.
The moon shines through Sirius's shitty, cheap curtains, casting a beautiful glow on her.
His voice comes out quiet as he calls her name into the dark. Her body doesn't stir, and he walks closer to the bed. The gentle rise and fall of her sleeping form has him convinced she really has fallen asleep without him.
Almost by instinct, he gets into bed, moving closer to wrap her up in his arms, but he hesitates, wondering if she'd even want to be held by him after their fight.
He feels the pang of sadness at the thought that she may not want his touch any longer.
Regulus reasons with himself that if she really didn't want him near her, she would push him away during the night. Maybe-- maybe she would wake up with his body pressed up close against hers, and it could fix something, or at least maybe she'd wake up less angry at him.
Carefully he moves so she's tucked against his body, his arm wrapping around her waist the way he knows she likes best. With a content sigh, she settles back against his body.
Regulus holds still, making sure she hasn't woken up, eventually relaxing and burying his face in her hair.
At least as she sleeps, she still desires him.