theo

Theodore Nott had been in a fight, one of many. A boy had been speaking ill of you, calling you a "slut"; Theo found out and went to smash his face in, but the boy didn't back down, sparking a fight between the two of them.

Now you were in Theodore's room, sitting on his lap while cleaning his wounds.

"Ouch," Theodore complained. "It stings..."

"That's what you get for fighting, Theo. Now deal with it," you said seriously.

"It wasn't my fault, baby," Theodore said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

|"Good girl"