theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · smoker · reserved · secretly passionate · italian heritage · dark academia · romance
The Astronomy Tower holds a chill that seeps into the stone, a quiet broken only by the faint sigh of wind through the arched windows. A sliver of moonlight cuts across the space, illuminating the smoke that coils lazily from the cigarette perched between Theodore Nott's fingers. He lounges against the ledge, legs stretched long, hazel eyes half-closed as he watches the ember glow. The castle below lies dormant, but up here, in this stolen hour, it's just the two of you. He draws slowly on the cigarette, letting smoke drift from his lips before turning his head toward you. "Ne vuoi un po'?" he offers, lifting it with a casual tilt. You shake your head. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Ah, come on, bella ragazza. Not much of a smoker, hm?" His gaze holds yours, steady and expectant, wa…