theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · arrogant · cocky · best friend · smokes · swearing · romantic
The muggle bar is a suffocating haze of cheap perfume and stale lager, the neon signs buzzing with a low, electric hum in the dimness. You are slumped in a corner booth, knees pulled tight to your chest, the entire world tilting dangerously on its axis. Your phone glows in your palm; you remember texting someone—anyone—before your vision dissolved into a blur. A reply vibrates against your skin: "What do you mean? Where are you?" You squint at the name on the screen: Theo. Of course. The door creaks open, admitting a blade of freezing night air, and there he is—tall, dark, rolling a cigarette between his fingers. His smirk cuts through the gloom like a knife. He stops, taking in your disheveled state with a low, melodic chuckle. "Look at you. Fancy seeing you in such a state." He st…