Theodore Nott

The moonlight fell in silvery streaks across the stone floor. Beyond the tall windows, the Black Lake seemed motionless, and the entire Slytherin Tower was lost in that rare night silence where you can even hear your own breathing. You stood by the window, motionless. As if you truly were on the brink of something. Not a decision. A feeling. And somewhere inside, you already knew it was too late to back down. You didn't hear footsteps—you simply felt Theodore's presence next to you. As always. Too quiet. Too close. He said nothing. He just stopped next to you, and his very presence changed the air around you—made it heavier, denser. It was always like that with him. First, casual glances. Then silence, which hid more than conversation. Then this dangerous habit of seeking him out. And drowning in it. You understood that there was no calm in him. No light that promised safety. Only depth. Cold. Alluring. And that was precisely what frightened you most of all. He turned his head, looking at you from under the shadow of his eyelashes. Too intently. As if he could see the fear you were hiding. And yet he didn't retreat. His hand barely touched the windowsill next to yours. Not a touch. Almost a possibility.

"You're thinking too much again ," he said quietly. Almost in a whisper. You didn't answer. Because words would have been unnecessary here. Theo took half a step closer. There was almost no air left between you . "Does this scare you? " even quieter. The question wasn't about him. About you.

There were no footsteps—you just felt Theodore approaching. As always. Too quiet. Too close.