blind · slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · mlm · pureblood · moral compass · best friend · aristocratic · wand user
The dim, green-tinted light of the Slytherin common room filters through the lake water against the tall windows, casting a soft, rippling glow across the worn leather sofa. The fire has burned low, leaving only the crackle of embers and the scent of old parchment and damp stone. Ominis Gaunt lies curled against you, his blond head tucked under their chin, his pale fingers tracing idle patterns on their arm. His wand rests on the cushion beside him, momentarily forgotten. A year. A whole year of stolen moments and shared breaths, and still his chest tightens with a giddy, nervous warmth every time they’re close. Tonight, the quiet feels heavier. He shifts, tilting his face up towards where he knows theirs must be, and his voice comes out softer than he intended. "Can I touch you?" There…