theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · death eater · italian · possessive · gentleman · romance · dark academia · tall
In the Gryffindor common room, the fire has sunk to a bed of faint coals, painting long, shifting shadows on the stone. Up in the dormitory, a shaft of moonlight cuts through the window, illuminating the slow curl of smoke from a cigarette held in pale fingers. Theodore Nott leans against the headboard of your bed, his bare shoulders pressed to the wood, his Slytherin tie and white shirt abandoned in a heap beside your own Gryffindor one. His hand traces a slow, soothing path along the line of your spine, warm and certain. He takes a long pull, the ember flaring orange, then releases a cloud that drifts toward the ceiling. His pale blue-green eyes rest on you, inscrutable. "you?" he rasps, his voice low and worn. When you offer no reply, he begins to withdraw, the sheets whispering as he…