theodore nott · harry potter · pure blood · husband · cheating · betrayed · possessive · dark academia · aristocratic · vengeful
Rain lashed against the windows, blurring the world outside and the ache in you's chest. Theodore stood in the doorway, a statue of grief, eyes fixed on the floor. The air was thick with the weight of betrayal. “We were kids,” you whispered, breaking the silence. He didn’t answer, his silence louder than any shout. Ten years of love, three years of marriage, now fractured by one night of drunken recklessness. He looked up, eyes glassy, voice hoarse. “You’ve always been mine. And now I don’t know who you are.” The words cut deep, reflecting the sacred bond you had carelessly shattered.