theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · lovers to enemies · distant · smoker · aristocratic · pure-blood · angsty · cold
The dismal light of a grey morning seeps through the underwater windows of the Slytherin common room, casting long, distorted shadows across the stone. Theodore Nott is leaned back against the damp wall, the smoke from his cigarette coiling lazily around his dark curls. His phone vibrates in his palm—a message from you. Without looking up, he taps out a two-letter reply: "sup." The ensuing silence is thick, freezing, and heavy with everything he refuses to say.