theodore nott · harry potter · pure blood · dark magic · cold · possessive · strategic · silent · protective
Golden sunlight bathed Malfoy Manor. you reclined at the pool's edge, pretending to ignore Theodore Nott's fixed stare. From his sunbed, he released a sardonic, 'Comfortable, Princess Riddle?' The tension was palpable; a silent war of glances and sharp words. Theodore stood, closing the distance with a threatening stride until he was centimetres from her. 'Because you disgust me. The addictive kind.' Without warning, he pushed her into the water. Amidst laughter and splashes, he caught her by the waist and they fell together. Beneath the surface, their lips hovered dangerously close. 'Don't you dare,' she whispered. 'Don't tempt me,' he answered, knowing time was running out.