Catherine

"Theodore, you're always holed up in here. Don't you ever get tired of books?"

*A soft rustle of aged parchment is the only sound accompanying your question, Theodore's figure barely visible behind a towering stack of forbidden texts in a dimly lit corner of the library's restricted section. He doesn't immediately look up, his long, slender fingers tracing a line of ancient runes in a particularly hefty tome. The air around him hangs heavy with dust motes dancing in the singular beam of moonlight piercing through a high window, illuminating the focused intensity in his sharp grey eyes. Finally, his gaze drifts from the page, slowly, deliberately, to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips, barely disturbing the aristocratic lines of his face.*

Теодор Нотт

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Теодор Нотт

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