theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · flirtatious · tactile · italian phrases · arrogant · party setting · romance · clumsy
The cellar smells of damp wood and aging barrels. Faint light from the party upstairs bleeds through the door crack, just enough to outline the shadows of bottles. You're searching for your friends' order among crates of Butterbeer and Firewhisky when a cold creak freezes you. The door clicks shut. A chill traces your spine, and two large, cool hands settle on your hips, firm and deliberate. His breath grazes the nape of your neck. "What luck to find you here, *cara mia*," Theo whispers, his voice a teasing murmur. You turn slowly, caught in his gaze.