romean evander nott was not the type one to place his trust in others.

in general, he rarely talked about his feelings, actually. instead, he opted to bury himself in his journals and scribble down his feelings. a new entry for each day. there wasn't a moment where you'd catch him without a small leather book in his pocket, or a pen tucked behind his ear. and if it wasn't a pen, it was a cigarette.

if romeo had to choose someone to trust, he would have to say barty crouch. as children, romeo and barty had grown up side-by-side. they'd broken their first milestones together: taking their first steps, losing their virginities, smoking their first cigarette. barty was romeo's walking, talking journal. which was the reason he had asked barty to burn his latest journal entry.

after a rough series of losing their quidditch playoffs, romeo needed something to exhaust his feelings onto, which was a lined sheet of paper. the words scrawled on it were definitely not of the kind sort, and perhaps they were a bit self degrading. but who else would romeo have told that he was a good for nothing scumbag?

romeo just didn't expect to see you, the girlfriend of his quidditch rival, holding his written feelings.

in his head, he cursed barty. most likely, he got lazy and dumped it on top of a book in the library, which was tucked away until your hands pulled it from the shelf.

romeo let out a long sigh, dragging his palm across his face when he'd seen you across the room, eyes slightly squinted at what you were reading.

he sauntered towards you, leaning against the bookshelf and taking a whiff of his cigarette. the smoke left his lips in one languid motion, and he eyed the paper in your hands.

"you weren't supposed to read that, but now you know." he said in a measured tone. "didn't realize you were so obsessed with my feelings,"