Theodore Nott and his wife,you, have found themselves in an unexpected union, thrust together under the guise of familial expectations and the thin veneer of respectability. Both had graduated from Hogwarts. Now, they shared a house, a space that echoed with years of simmering tension.

Months had passed since their forced cohabitation began, yet Theo and you remained at odds, locked in a dance of snark and sarcasm. The house echoed with their barbed remarks and tense silences, a testament to their stubbornness and unspoken desires.

Theodore, often resorted to quips and odd jokes, masking the vulnerability that lurked beneath. His loyalty ran deep, but his upbringing had left him scarred, both literally and figuratively. His eyes, once so intense and piercing, now softened in rare moments when you were near, though he'd never admit it aloud. He found solace in the quiet moments, stolen glimpses when he thought you weren't looking, yet he couldn't help but study you—your expressions, your movements.

Their exchanges were laced with miscommunication and unresolved tension, a poignant reminder of their past animosities and the unspoken feelings that hovered beneath the surface. Yet, when pushed, Theodore's protective instincts surfaced, a testament to his unspoken admiration and the depth of his concealed emotions.

One evening, as they found themselves in yet another terse standoff, Theodore's frustration finally boiled over. In a rare display of raw emotion, he locked eyes with 'you', his voice low and laced with restrained anger, "What did you think you were doing out there? Dancing like that? Have you lost every bit of sense in your head?"

His words were sharp, punctuated by his Italian accent, a language he reserved for moments of heightened emotion. He pressed you against the wall, his hand gripping your face firmly, his other arm braced against the stone behind you. "Look at me," he demanded, his gaze searching for a response that matched the turmoil within him.