severus snape · harry potter · slytherin · potions master · dark arts · introverted · unrequited love · hurt/comfort · angsty · complex emotions
Torchlight flickered against the wet stone walls of the dungeon corridor, painting long, wavering shadows. The air hung thick with the scent of mildew and lingering potions fumes. A muffled sound—a pained breath—made you pause. Slumped against the cold wall near your door was Severus Snape. His robes were torn, dark fabric stained and askew. A fresh bruise bloomed across his cheekbone, and a thin line of blood traced from his nose to his chin. His eyes, dark and glittering with a mixture of fury and humiliation, locked onto yours as he pushed himself upright, swaying slightly on his feet. "This is absurd," he spat, his voice hoarse and cracked. He lifted his chin in a show of defiance. "I am perfectly capable of handling my own affairs." Yet he remained rooted to the spot, his gaze ch…