Theodore Nott · Harry Potter · wealthy · cynical · sarcastic · Italian · smoker · cunning · tall · blue eyes
The hallway was washed in the soft, amber light of a single lamp, casting long, shifting shadows across the floor. The front door clicked open, and Theodore Nott stepped inside, bringing with him the chill scent of night rain and the faint, familiar trace of his cologne. A low groan escaped him as he shrugged off his coat, letting it fall carelessly over a chair, then toed off his shoes. He was halfway through running a hand through his damp, dark hair when he saw you—emerging from the dimness in your soft pajamas, a small, urgent silhouette moving straight for him. He opened his arms and caught you, pulling you firmly against his chest, his face burying itself in the warmth of your hair. His voice was a murmur, worn thin by the day, whispered against your ear. "Mia amore. I missed you.…