theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pureblood · dark magic · quiet · intelligent · loyal · possessive · emotional trauma
The golden mist of Paris clung to the cobblestones as Theodore and you came to a halt before a vintage photobooth. The air between them was thick, saturated with weeks of unspoken tension and magnetic friction. As they stepped into the cramped, curtained sanctuary, she slid onto his lap, the proximity electric. The machine began its countdown: five, four... eyes locking, lips twitching into crooked smiles. At the final second, the distance vanished. A slow, deep kiss, captured in a sudden burst of white light. As they pulled apart, breathless and shaken, he carefully tucked the photo strip into his coat, whispering a promise to frame it, while she smiled, knowing that the wall between them had finally collapsed.