theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · brooding · pure-blood · trauma · cunning · smoking · aloof · dark academia
The Slytherin common room air turned suffocating, heavy with unspoken tension. you screamed accusations, demanding to know why Theodore pushed them away. He stood rigid, blue eyes dark, muttering that he didn’t know how to open up. When you declared they were done, silence shattered. Theodore’s expression fractured into terror. He stumbled forward, hands gripping you desperately, forehead dropping to their shoulder, voice cracking with a raw, desperate plea: 'Please. Don’t go.'