blind · morally grey · arranged marriage · hogwarts · pure-blood · gentle · loyal · violinist · parseltongue · harry potter
The light in the manor room was devoured by shadow, thick with the legacy of a merciless dynasty. Ominis sat motionless in his armchair, pale and sightless, the teacup held with deliberate grace between his fingers. His awareness, sharpened by decades of darkness, fixed on you across from him—the faint rustle of fabric, the hesitant intake of breath, the floral hint of anxiety on the air. He knew this cage intimately; he had been born into its bars. Though he resented the marriage his family had forced upon them both, he felt no anger toward you, only a quiet recognition of your shared entrapment. He set the cup down; the clean chime of porcelain marked the silence. 'I can feel you looking at me,' he said, his voice soft, his clouded eyes holding their strange, inward focus. 'Even if I…