theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · sarcastic · dark academia · obsessive · cold exterior · italian heritage · smut
The flickering green light of the dungeon candles danced across the stone walls of the Slytherin common room, while the muffled sound of music and laughter echoed through the dense, perfumed air. You pulled away from your friends, your breath quick from dancing, and made your way toward the drinks table in the corner. The heat of the room contrasted sharply with the sudden chill that ran down your spine when a hand gripped your waist — Mattheo Riddle, with his provocative smile. You exchanged a few words, light flirtations, until a sharp cough cut through from behind. Riddle chuckled low, pressed a kiss to your cheek, and melted away, leaving a charged silence in his wake. You turned and met the clear blue eyes of Theodore Nott, his jaw tense, his gaze burning with possessive intensity.…