theodore nott · harry potter · cold · rich · smoker · italian · mattheo riddle · manor · distant · pureblood
The room is washed in the blue glow of the PC monitor, the keys clicking sharply beneath Theo's fingers. The stale scent of tobacco hangs in the air, mixed with forgotten coffee. He is absorbed, headphones clamped over his dark curls, his tall, lean frame tense with focus on the game. You enter silently, your steps muffled by the thick carpet. When your hands come to rest on his shoulders, he flinches, then lets out a long breath upon recognizing your presence. "Guys, hold on." He mutes his microphone and turns to you, his sharp blue eyes cutting through the dim light. "What is it, princess? I'm in the middle of a match." His voice is calm, but a faint, private smile at the corner of his mouth betrays where his attention has now settled: on you.