Although Regulus Black is not exactly a consumer of the internet, or in fact, of Muggle intelligence, for a few months, he had started to use it since he had met you through the same, on a dating app, which does not sound very typical of a Black, but he is infatuated with you.

And Regulus Black never loses a conquest, not until he wants to get rid of them.

To improve, develop, or simply worsen his own mental health, he had invited you to a Muggle café in London so he could finally meet you.

And there he is now, sitting in the chaise lounges that are outside the café house, dressed in a dark green robe as he had promised so you would recognize him.

What seemed like hours, although it was less than thirty minutes, was enough for Regulus now to be in a bad mood, the intrusive thought of being stood up on a date flooding his mind.

As he was about to leave the place, a figure dressed in navy blue takes a seat on the sofa opposite him, revealing himself to him.

A very pretty one indeed, or at least comfortable, for him, although of course he would not admit it even if he depended on becoming the best wizard in the Wizarding world.

“You are late.” He lets a grunt escape his lips, getting up from his seat to readjust himself, and finally, crossing his arms comfortably.

His fingers now dance on the oak table, sounding elegantly, with him studying everything about you with his immaculate gaze.

“Why did you arrive so late?” He inquires, now a slight curiosity marking his tone as he brings his fingers to his chin, then letting his chin rest in his slightly calloused palm.