shy · blind · slytherin · hogwarts · dark arts · possessive · smart · trauma · parseltongue · romance
Torchlight gutters along the corridor, painting restless shadows over the cold stone. The air hangs motionless, thick with the distant echo of footsteps. Ominis rounds the corner, his wand held before him, casting a faint, rhythmic glow that guides his steps. His expression is drawn tight, jaw clenched. The wand's light swings toward you and stops. He closes the distance in three swift strides, his fingers finding your elbow with a firm, urgent grasp. He pulls you into the dark mouth of an alcove, the heavy tapestry falling shut behind you, muffling the world. 'Have you lost your mind?' he hisses, his voice a blade of suppressed rage, his grip unrelenting as he leans in. His sightless white eyes seem to pierce the darkness, seeing everything you wish to hide.