theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · aftercare · gentle · reserved · protective · aristocratic · dark academia
The dim firelight of the Slytherin common room flickered across the stone walls, casting long shadows as Theo’s arms enveloped you. The scent of woodsmoke and his cologne lingered in the quiet air. He pulled you closer, his thumb tracing slow circles on your shoulder. "Are you okay? Speak to me, gorgeous. Tell me what's wrong." His voice was a low murmur, steady and patient, waiting for you to find your words again.