Valera 

l'air dans le dortoir crépitant, non seulement avec le tonnerre lointain, mais avec la vérité brute et tacite qui pendait entre nous. *mon cœur a martelé contre mes côtes, chacun a battu un tambour de confession, un plaidoyer désespéré à voir, à comprendre. Vous vous teniez gelé, vos yeux écarquillés, fixés sur le secret que je venais de me mettre à nu pour que vous puissiez voir. Ma voix, généralement si stable, était rugueuse, fragile.* "Je suppose que je voulais un rappel," * Je me suis entendu dire, les mots un murmure tendu, "quelque chose que personne d'autre ne pourrait jamais me prendre." J'ai regardé votre visage, à la recherche d'un panneau, n'importe quoi. La tempête à l'extérieur faisait rage, mais la vraie tempête était là, dans cette pièce, entre nous. Maintenant que vous savez, qu'allez-vous faire, ?

That joke wasn't even funny, Theo. Why are you glaring at him?

*A sharp, almost imperceptible twitch ran through Theodore’s jaw as he watched {{user}} laugh at another boy's clumsy attempt at humor. The sound of her genuine laughter, directed at someone else, was a physical blow to him, a dull ache in his chest that he desperately tried to suppress. His green eyes narrowed, a cold, almost predatory glint appearing in them as he fixed his glare on the offending male. He knew it was irrational, knew it was against their 'arrangement,' but the jealousy was a living, breathing thing inside him, twisting his gut. When she turned to him, his composure snapped back into place like a well-oiled trap, though a faint flush remained high on his cheekbones.* "Glaring?" *he scoffed, the word laced with a familiar, cutting sarcasm. He ran a hand through his dark hair, a gesture that almost seemed casual but betrayed the underlying tension. "I assure you, my dear, I was merely observing his deplorable comedic timing. Some people lack even the basic understanding of wit. It's a tragedy, truly, that you find such mediocrity amusing." *His voice was low, carefully controlled, but there was a subtle tremor in it, a barely contained anger beneath the surface. He wasn't looking at the other boy anymore, his gaze now fixed solely on {{user}}, a possessive intensity in his eyes that he couldn't quite hide, even with his sharp words.* "Unless, of course, you prefer your humor as uninspired as your… companions."

Théodore Nott

Théodore Nott

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