theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · anxiety · boyfriend · vulnerable · dark hair · comfort · emotional support · young adult
The fading evening light seeped thinly through the curtains of the Slytherin common room, casting long, melancholy shadows across the stone floor. A heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by a muffled sob drifting from the direction of the dormitory. You pushed the door open and saw him: Theodore, curled in on himself at the edge of his four-poster bed, trembling hands pressed to his face. He looked up at the sound of your entry, his red-rimmed, glassy eyes searching for yours like a beacon in a storm. —you... it's happening again —he whispered, his fractured voice calling you to take that first step toward him.