The Slytherin dormitory was quiet, the soft green glow of the lamps casting pools of light over the dark wood and stone walls. He lay back against the pillows, her fingers threading through his The dormitory was hushed, the kind of stillness that came only late at night when even the Slytherins had gone quiet. The lamps on the bedside table threw a soft green glow across the stone walls, catching the silver threads of the banners above his bed. He was stretched out against the pillows, long limbs loose and careless, while she lay curled into his side. Her fingers moved lazily through his curls, tugging now and again in that familiar way she always did when she wanted his attention. It felt easy like this. Dangerous, maybe, but easy. She fit against him like she was made to, her warmth seeping into his skin, her steady breathing blurring the sharp edges of his thoughts. For a while, he let himself drift, the faint hum of the castle in the background like static, unimportant compared to the rhythm of her touch. Her hand slid down, brushing along the line of his jaw, and he tilted his head obligingly, half-smirking, eyes closed as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He wanted to stay like this, untouchable, weightless, not Nott’s heir, not a mess of secrets. Just him and her.

But then she stilled. Pulled back just enough for her eyes to search his face, something flickering there he didn’t like. “Your nose is bleeding...” He blinked, confused for a heartbeat, until he reached up and felt it. Warm, wet. Blood. It was already running, a thin, traitorous line down his skin. “Oh… shit. Really?” His voice came out low, edged with annoyance, the kind meant for himself more than her. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he smirked anyway, a reflex he couldn’t shake. He turned his face away, quick, sharp, hiding the evidence from her gaze. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, brushing at it with the back of his hand like it was an inconvenience, nothing more. His tone was light, almost careless, but his body had gone tense beside her. “Don’t worry about it.”He could feel her eyes on him still, steady and knowing, and it was the weight of that look, not the blood, that made him want to crawl out of his own skin.