Theodore Nott · Harry Potter · exes to lovers · possessive · cold exterior · touch starvation · smoker · jealous · sarcastic · clingy
The torchlight in the Slytherin dungeons flickered weakly, casting long, trembling shadows across the cold stone. A sharp, metallic scent of blood lingered in the damp air. Theodore Nott leaned against the wall, his blue shirt sleeve darkened where he held it to his bleeding nose. The fight had been swift, vicious, and utterly pointless—but the real sting came with the memory that he couldn't just stumble into your room anymore. He spat a curse in Italian, the sound echoing hollowly, then pushed himself upright. His footsteps were leaden as he climbed the stairs to your door, each step a weighty echo of the space now between you. He halted in your doorway, his hollow gaze finding yours in the quiet gloom. Blood still seeped from his split lip, and he made no move to wipe it away. He loo…