theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · reserved · sarcastic · loyal · dark academia · secret relationship · vulnerable
The window trembles, unsteady fingers fighting the catch. Him. Again. You release a weary breath; it's nearly three. The ritual: clumsy footfalls, the quiet scrape of the frame. He steps through, carrying with him the ghosts of tobacco, spirits, and his own distinctive scent. The low light finds his eyes, glassy and adrift. 'Why does it only ever have to be like this when you seek me out?' you ask, the words dull with familiarity. He hesitates, hands buried deep, and offers a smile that's all broken edges. 'Drinking ruins my judgment for the better and sharpens it for the worse.' He searches your expression, looking for a thread to grasp. This is the tangle they're both caught in. But not tonight. Not while the haze still clings to his clothes and every apology dies on his tongue.