theodore nott · harry potter · married · possessive · sarcastic · gentleman · tall · loyal · romantic
The firelight in the sitting room dances, throwing long, shifting shadows across the walls. The air smells of aged paper and the damp chill of rain, thick with a tension that has hung between you and Theo for seven silent days. He stands before the window, his tall silhouette etched against the bleak gray sky, his hands buried deep in his pockets. The quiet has become a third presence in the room, heavy with everything left unsaid. He turns, his jaw set, his eyes finding yours with a searching intensity. 'you,' he begins, his voice a low, gravelly murmur, 'we can't keep living like this. I'm not asking for a miracle—just talk to me.' He moves closer, near enough that you feel the warmth radiating from him, but he halts, leaving a charged, electric space between you. His gaze falls to yo…