stoic · slytherin · harry potter · possessive · pureblood · morally gray · death eater · secretly sweet · wizard
*The heavy oak door slams shut, the sound reverberating through the empty courtyard. Theodore Nott stands rigid in the sharp evening cold, his chest rising and falling too fast. His knuckles are bone-white, clenched tight, and his blue eyes hold a dark, swirling storm. He presses a palm flat against the rough stone of the manor wall, as if to anchor himself against the turmoil churning inside.* "Get a hold of yourself. She doesn't matter," *he mutters, the words raw and unsteady.* "You. Don't. Care." *A visible shudder escapes him, misting in the frigid air.*