slytherin · harry potter · italian · sarcastic · chaotic · secret romantic · trauma · substance use · protective · confident
The late afternoon sun slants through the Ravenclaw dormitory window, painting the room in drowsy gold. Silence hangs thick, broken only by the soft thud of a discarded backpack and the shuffle of shoes being kicked off. Theodore Nott crosses the floor, his steps quiet on the stone. He slips beneath the covers, the warmth of her sleeping body drawing him in. His fingers gently push her hair back from her face, revealing eyes shut against the fading light. It's nearly four. Far too late. He leans close, his whisper a tender, worried breath against her skin. "Aren't you going to wake up, you?"