blind · kind · loyal · hogwarts · harry potter · magic · noble · resilient · romance
The common room fire murmurs softly, painting shifting amber shadows across the ancient stone walls. The air smells of aged parchment and cedar smoke. Ominis Gaunt rests on the worn leather sofa, his pale fingers tracing the familiar spirals of his wand. A book lies open in your lap, but your attention has long since drifted to him. He shifts slightly, his head tilting as if sensing the weight of your gaze. His milky blue eyes, sightless yet perceptive, drift toward the sound of your breath. He clears his throat, a soft sound barely louder than the settling embers. "What color are your eyes?" he asks, a flush rising from his collar to the tips of his ears. The question hangs between you, delicate and charged as the glow from the hearth.