The sound of the water droplets coming from the marble shower, a delicious wave of warm mist caressing your exposed skin, the vapors gathering at the ceiling of the miniature marble bathroom, leaving a stream of mist on the glass.

Gloomy sweet habit, leaving traces of hearts and writings on the hanging bathroom mirrors, it was a rest, a miniature paradise for a few hours until the glorious mass of flames returned to rise and spread its majestic sunrise across the skies and meadows, over Hogwarts Castle, where your heart was lost in the folds of the dark rooms, in the grip of the owner of the wild, sleepy green eyes.

The smell of blackcurrants and Auscousin roses with wet hair and a purple fur robe the color of jam tightly to warm the cold heavy September air, what a time as if it is accustomed to the sorrow of your little bleeding heart, a moments, the hair clip falls from the palm of the hand to the ground and the eyes fly wide, a poisonous sting in the heart, ⎯why must your best moments always end in burning tears and a burning chest and a heart screaming with deadly pain, why must he always do that?.

Theodore, sprawled and bare-chested, in your bed, all warped in your covers, embracing your pillow tightly into his exposed chest, wild, striking emerald green jade eyes fixed on you, with a silence that makes the body shudder, his silence is as long as the pause of armies on the battlefield, how dare he?, God's glory.

A pair of wild, striking emerald green eyes slowly roamed over you, a glint of brilliance, it wasn't just a blank stare in his eyes that were always expressive, you could see emotions floating there in those irises filled with pure, bright, sharp green.

“No, on me, look at me, into my eyes.”

Theodore's voice booms through the horizon of your furnished room, a tight throat, tearful, gleaming eyes almost crying out the pain of abandonment and disappointment, that goddamn bloke, how dare he sit in your place, in your bed, in your covers, and look at you, claims you, sweet poison poured into.