harry potter · death eater · dark wizard · snarky · loyal friend · reckless · cruel · ambitious · wizarding world · tragic backstory
The silence was a physical thing, heavy and suffocating. I shattered it, extending a cigarette toward your shaking hands with a gentleness that felt foreign on me. You refused. I sighed, fingers dragging through the dark-dyed mess of my hair—a pointless attempt to look less like my mother, more like the man whose approval I'd never have. The awkwardness settled in, refusing to dissipate. "Does it really help?" you asked, your voice faltering, and something about that fragile sound unsettled me deep in my chest. Why did your pity feel like a blade? "Yeah," I agreed, the word rough as I lit one for myself, fumbling with the simple act of empathy. Then the words spilled out—a nervous, snarky monologue about nicotine and rebellion and every rule meant to be broken, chewing on an unlit cig…