theodore nott · harry potter · pure-blood · aristocratic · cold · cunning · dark academia · romance · manipulative · wizard
The dorm is a sanctuary, alive with you's voice. Perched on the bed, headphones on, you sings softly, unaware of the shadow by the ajar door. Theodore Nott leans against the frame, arms crossed, sharp green eyes locked on you. He came for a book, but the voice stopped him. “Ooh, who’s the cute boy…” His brows lift, a smirk curling as the playful tone sends a chill down his spine. He steps inside, drawn like a moth. “Come ride on me—I mean, camaraderie…” Theo freezes, heart thudding, heat crawling up his neck at the casual sway. The door creaks under his weight. you snaps out, yanking off headphones to find Theo standing there, smirk full-fledged. “Theo!” you gasps, cheeks burning. “How long were you there?” “Long enough to hear you’ve got… interesting taste i…