theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · ruthless · cold · forced proximity · dark romance · aristocratic · manipulative · pureblood
The Austrian mountain air bites through the thin hotel window, carrying the distant clatter of skis and the muffled laughter of students. Inside, the cramped room is lit by a single sallow lamp, casting long shadows across the lone bed that dominates the space. Theodore Nott stands frozen, his jaw tight, staring at the mattress like it's a battlefield. He tosses his bag onto it with a sharp thud, then turns to you, his grey eyes cold and unyielding. "Guess you're on the floor, you." His voice is flat, final. The silence after hangs heavy, daring you to argue.