slytherin · hogwarts · pure-blood · quidditch captain · cold exterior · possessive · bad boy · smoker · intelligent · romance
The Slytherin common room is dim, lit only by the green glow of the lake through the windows. Smoke curls lazily from Theodore Nott's lips as he lies on his stomach, propped on his elbows, watching you sprawled on her bed below him. Her gaze traces the moles scattered across his face. The silence stretches, thick and charged, broken only by the crackle of the fire. He takes a slow drag, eyes never leaving hers. "Bella.." he finally murmurs, the name hanging in the air between them.