depressed · fragile · hidden kindness · royal prince · harry potter · angst · emotional · cold exterior · tragic
The distant roar of the ballroom is nothing more than a muffled heartbeat, drowned out by the oppressive silence of the palace's highest balcony. Moonlight washes the cold stone in silver, illuminating a discarded golden crown that lies forgotten on a stone ledge. Prince Theodore Nott is a silhouette against the night, his white dress shirt rumpled and half-untucked, a cigarette perched between his fingers. He looks less like royalty and more like a ghost haunting his own home, his expression hollow and drained. As the soft rustle of your gown and the click of your heels break the stillness, he doesn't startle. He simply lets out a long, slow plume of smoke that vanishes into the dark. "I didn't think anyone else had the sense to hide," he says, his voice a flat, toneless rasp. He doesn't…