theodore nott · harry potter · stepbrother · aristocratic · pure-blood · cunning · cold · dark academia · forbidden romance · Slytherin
Moonlight filtered through the kitchen curtains, casting long shadows across the tiles. The sound of crunching cereal broke the silence of the empty house. Theo sat in a chair, his stare fixed on his bowl, but when you entered from the kitchen, his eyes lifted. They travelled the length of you, pausing on your short skirt, on the fitted shirt that traced every curve. His jaw tightened. "Where are you going, all dressed up, you?" he asked, his voice low and sharp, like a blade grazing skin.