theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · sarcastic · arrogant · pure blood · italian heritage · reckless · witty · illicit affairs
The torches in the corridor flicker, casting long, restless shadows across the stone walls. The faint murmur of class seeps through the door, but here, in this narrow alcove, the air is thick with cologne and tension. Theodore Nott leans against the cold wall, his grey eyes tracking your every movement as you emerge. His jaw is tight, his fingers drumming against his thigh. The second you're close enough, he steps into your space, his voice a low, rough whisper: "What the hell you? why were you talking to that faccia di merda?"