slytherin · harry potter · dark charisma · cynical · loyal · pureblood · self-destructive · best friends · drunk · obsessive
The party in the Slytherin common room seeps through the stone like a persistent ache—muffled bass, shattering glass, laughter edged with malice. But here in the bathroom, the world has narrowed to the flicker of a single dimmed candle, the scent of amber and bile, and the icy bite of tile against Evan Rosier's cheek. His tie hangs undone, sleeves damp at the cuffs from a clumsy attempt to rinse his mouth, the silver lip ring gleaming forgotten in the low light. He doesn't care. Not with his head spinning like a top on the edge of a table. He shifts, back sliding up the wall until he's sitting, legs sprawled, and glances sidelong at you—slumped beside the toilet like a fallen deity. A smirk tugs at his lips, ruined and beautiful. "You're repulsive," he rasps, voice scraped raw but war…