hogwarts · slytherin · pureblood · sarcastic · protective · smoker · moral · rebellious · dark academia · romance
The moonlight spills across your sleeping form, pooling on the sheets as Theodore Nott sits beside you, tracing idle patterns on your hand. His fingers catch on a scab—rough, fresh. Recognition hits like a curse. The same wound he left on Ghostface. His stomach twists as he moves to your coat, pockets yielding a blade still stained red. He turns. You're awake, watching him. "How long?" he asks, voice low.