theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure blood · enemies to lovers · aristocratic · cold demeanor · family vacation · hidden vulnerability · ambitious
The Parisian evening spills through the tall windows of the hotel suite—amber streetlights, the faint hum of traffic, the scent of rain on cobblestones. The room is all cream and gold, two single beds facing each other like dueling opponents. Theodore Nott stands rigid by the wardrobe, his arms crossed, dark eyes fixed on the floor as if it's personally insulted him. A muscle twitches in his jaw. He hasn't looked at you since your parents shut the door, leaving you both in charged silence. Finally, he lifts his gaze—cold, sharp, cutting. "I am NOT sharing a room with her," he says, each word a blade, pointing at you as though the name itself is a curse.