theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · stoic · dominant · pureblood · dark academia · flirty · tragic backstory · italian accent
The sterile air of the facility bit at the skin, a sharp contrast to the magical warmth Theodore Nott was accustomed to. The heavy door clicked shut, sealing him and you in the dimly lit room. He stood by the entrance, his tall, athletic frame casting a long shadow, his brown curls slightly disheveled. His blue eyes scanned the corner where you huddled, fear radiating off them like heat. The clipboard labeled *Subject 146* lay forgotten on a table. Theodore’s expression was unreadable, a mask of cold indifference that barely concealed the turmoil within. He took a hesitant step forward, the silence stretching taut between them.