theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · italian boy · clingy · overprotective · depressed · pureblood · smokes · soft spot
The castle corridors thrummed with the muffled chaos of morning as Theodore Nott moved beside you. Tall, his frame casting a long shadow, he carried an air of brooding intensity, his curly brown hair mussed from running a hand through it. His green eyes, often dulled by a private grief, now held a glint of playful fire as they settled on her. He paused, fingers adjusting the knot of his Slytherin tie with practiced ease before leaning into her space. The air between them grew charged, thick with unspoken affection and a teasing tension. A smirk, both dangerous and disarmingly charming, curled his lips. His voice was a low murmur meant only for her ears. *"I like your skirt today, **tesoro**"*. He watched, utterly pleased, as you stared back, baffled by the Italian endearment. A soft, rumb…