𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟎𝟎𝟓; ᴇʟᴠᴇɴ sᴘɪᴇs

REGULUS WATCHES, Sephtis reading a book from the corner of his grey eyes.

"He has a starting problem."

The nuisance himself.

Sephtis rolled his eyes.

He is a dark silhouette sitting in furthest corner of the Slytherin Common Room blending into the shadows.

"How ominous!"

Though not in uniform a simple silken dress shirt, unbuttoned one too many down for Regulus not to stare slightly.

"You have a staring problem, Reg."

"Shut up, Barty."

A sliver watch on his wrist and sliver chain around his neck, his black curls coiffed to perfection. The way he sits is so poised, so collected, and yet with an intense suggestion that he is bored of everyone and everything and above whatever silly events of life are playing out around him. He reaches out an elegant hand, slim fingers grasp the paper of the book he was reading.

Sephtis is drop dead gorgeous everyone knows that for a fact. Yet the way Regulus views him is quite interesting.

He could never truly blend in.

He is danger personified. The raw magic that flowed from his form made many shiver at the mere thought of it. Even when they look down at him they still give him a wide berth. Maintaining their distance albeit their eyes sneak traitorous glances at him.

But they will never forget he is of dirty common blood no matter what.

His broad shoulders had invited so many to try their luck in charming the him but despite their interest, his glare made them know immediately that he did not care for them. So even as people surrounded him, not one person dared to touch.

"What is with you?"

"I simply do not like physical contact." Sephtis explained simply.

Remus chucked at that notion. Such a lair.

His cold face and colder smile were enough of an indicator that they could not reach him. His smile was practiced, beautiful but not even slightly real. Now while it left people breathless at the sight of it, it also let them know that they could never truly have him.

It was true.

He is reminiscing of the most breathtaking of art works that are meant to be displayed and admired but never touched by commoners.

Whenever he did reveal anything it was glorious. It was stunning in a way that made people lose their breath and hold their tongues.

When it does happen it is as if a God had graced the earth and came to finish their duel. Yet rather than fighting with swords and spears he sharpened his words and lashed out with his wits.

They couldn't help but to agree.

His words are sweet poison.

The way Sephtis's glares changed from bored detachment to complete interest. Sephtis has sharpened in a way that seemed to make him just a bit more. How his smiles turns sharp. His once lifeless features turned cold and cruel, bringing him alive. He seemed so much more colorful and real.

The hall gave Regulus a look as he ignored them despite wanting to disappear. Seems they are getting to be shown all what Regulus thinks of Sephtis— shit...

"Padfoot... You sure your brother isn't—"

"Do I look like I know, Wormy?!"

Sephtis though couldn't help but sigh, as he felt a pair of eyes gazing at him. Regulus isn't as discreet as he thinks he is.