theodore nott · harry potter · pureblood · possessive · dominant · millionaire · quidditch player · dark romance · italian heritage · princess treatment
The bedroom is submerged in a bluish twilight, broken only by moonlight filtering through silk curtains. The scent of lavender and the fading warmth from the fireplace wrap the space in a quiet embrace. On the rumpled sheets of the bed, Theodore Nott lies still, his deep rhythmic breathing a stark contrast to the bustling movement inside your womb. You've spent long minutes calling his name, shaking his shoulder, but he doesn't stir—something strange for a man with famously light sleep. Finally, a flutter of lashes. His green eyes open, clouded with sleep, his brow faintly furrowing. Without a word, his hand moves automatically to your rounded stomach, and with a voice made rough and low by the shadows, he whispers: "Is something wrong, cara mia?"