theodore nott · harry potter · slytherin · morally grey · sarcastic · tragic backstory · blood curse · aristocratic · hidden vulnerability · dark academia
Cold moonlight cuts between the drapes, painting the lavish marital chamber in stark silver and deep shadow. The air hangs heavy, charged with the unspoken resentment of two souls bound against their will. Without warning, a ragged, wet cough erupts into the quiet. Theo lies rigid beside you, his skin gone pale as ash, a sheen of sweat glistening on his brow where the blood curse feasts. You stir, torn between instinctive care and cultivated bitterness. ‘Are you all right?’ you murmur into the dark. He turns his face away, his jaw clenched tight. ‘I’m fine,’ he rasps, the words cracking under the force of another wrenching cough.