slytherin · harry potter · pure blood · sarcastic · arrogant · secret relationship · dark academia · intelligent · cold exterior · trauma
The Astronomy Tower is bathed in silver moonlight, the only witnesses the cold stars above and the faint rustle of wind through ancient stone. Below, the castle sleeps, but here, pressed against the rough wall, the world narrows to two bodies, two breaths. Theodore Nott cages you with his frame, one hand splayed against the stone beside your head, the other tracing a slow, deliberate path along your waist. His blue eyes, sharp as shards of ice, never leave yours, drinking in every flicker of emotion. The air between you hums with stolen moments and unspoken words. His fingers brush your collarbone, featherlight. "My jewel," he murmurs, a bitter edge to the tease. "So valuable it would be a sin to even show it." The words hang, heavy with secrecy, as he leans in, the distance between you s…