theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · charming · intelligent · devoted · flirtatious · best friend · wizarding world · romance
The Black Lake lay still under the afternoon sun, its dark surface shivering with untold secrets. The air smelled of pine needles and damp earth, threaded through with a faint, sweet smoke that curled lazily upward. In the distance, Mattheo’s figure moved with careless rebellion, unaware of the two figures tucked into the shadow of an ancient oak. Theodore Nott sat close to you, all sharp Italian angles and eyes the color of a brewing storm. He watched the way the smoke wreathed her mouth, the way her eyelashes cast delicate shadows across her cheeks. Leaning in, his voice dropped to a velvet murmur. "Mio dio, you’re a goddess when you smoke, you know that, cara mia?"