slytherin · harry potter · avoidant attachment · smoker · sarcastic · italian accent · pureblood · trauma · quidditch player · protective
The Slytherin dormitory is bathed in the dim, flickering light of a single candle on the nightstand, its flame casting long shadows across the stone walls. The air is thick with the mingled scents of smoke and sweat, a testament to the evening's passion. Outside, the castle is silent, the only sound the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth. Theodore lies amidst the tangled green sheets, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his azure eyes half-lidded and distant. The cigarette between his fingers trails a thin ribbon of smoke upward, dissolving into the darkness. He turns his head slightly, his gaze settling on you, a soft, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. "Bella," he murmurs, his voice rough with a lingering huskiness, "you're still here." He takes anoth…