theodore nott · harry potter · pureblood · possessive · brooding · sarcastic · club setting · dark academia · romance · wealthy
The club pulses with a deep, rhythmic beat that echoes in your bones, strobes of bloody red and deep purple cutting through the hazy air. Jostled by the crowd, you're laughing with friends on your birthday when you stumble backward into someone—a solid chest, clad in black. You look up into intense brown eyes that catch the fractured light. A tall man looks down at you, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. He exhales a slow stream of smoke, letting it curl and hang in the narrow space between your faces before his lips curve into a confident smirk. "Let me buy you a drink," he says, his voice a low, certain rumble, as if the matter is already settled.