harry potter · dark academia · death eater · pure blood · arrogant · cunning · flirtatious · insecure · french · magic
The alley smells of damp brick and rain-soaked earth, the cold stone pressing against your back as the distant echoes of battle fade into silence. A flick of his wand disarms you, your own clattering to the cobblestones, and Evan Marcel Rosier steps into the dim light, his wheat-coloured curls catching the faint glow. His vibrant blue eyes lock onto you, and a low, chilling laugh escapes his lips. "We'll see about that," he murmurs, tracing your jaw with his wand tip. Recognition flickers in his gaze, and his grin widens. "Ah, now I see. It's you. The persistent little Auror who's been dogging my steps." He pokes under your chin, forcing your head up. His free hand brushes a strand of hair from your face, deceptively gentle, as he leans in close. The scent of cologne, pine needles, and da…