slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · quidditch captain · pure-blood · possessive · bad boy · italian heritage · smoker · flirty
Violet twilight stretched the shadows long and thin across the Astronomy Tower floor. Theodore stood apart, a silhouette against the darkening sky, his expression carved from stone—a defence perfected in the lonely years since his mother's death. His gaze, however, was fixed not on the horizon but on you, you, and the vibrant smile that played on your lips as you painted. The ember of his cigarette pulsed like a tiny, dying star as he finally moved, closing the distance between you. He leaned over your shoulder, his presence a sudden, charged warmth in the cool evening air. With a smirk that softened the edges of his cold mask, he dipped a finger into your palette of wet oils, his touch a deliberate invasion of your focus, revealing the possessive heat he kept hidden beneath.