THEODORE NOTT LIKED PRETTY THINGS. Which was why at the mere age of four, when he saw Ophelia Malfoy for the first time, he liked her.

He liked her shiny blonde hair, and her pretty blue eyes, and he liked how she always walked around in her pink nightgown with her stuffed bunny in her arms.

He liked her adorable smile, and he liked the dimple that formed in her left cheek whenever she did so. 

And he liked how she always followed him and Draco whenever they went to play in the gardens of Malfoy Manor until Lucius had to pick her up and take her back indoors because she wasn't wearing shoes.

He liked her since she was three years old, and he was four.

And sure, he loved going to Malfoy Manor to play with Draco. But there was also another reason why he loved going to Malfoy Manor.

To catch a glimpse of the young Malfoy heiress.

If he was lucky, she'd be allowed to play with Draco, and end up following the pair while Draco told her to go away.

But he'd always let her play with them.

He'd always persuade Draco to let her join.

And he watched her grow up.

He watched her grow into an innocent child with a delicate heart, who always brought a smile to the faces of those around her.

He watched her roll her eyes whenever Pansy Parkinson, and the Greengrass sisters came to visit Malfoy Manor, because she didn't like those girls.

And as she grew older, he only grew to like her more.

She was the most determined girl he had ever seen, the most stubborn, manipulative girl he had seen. She was able to configure the thoughts and feelings of all those around her to get what she wanted.

She could use those pretty eyes of hers to silently charm anyone into doing her bidding, whilst looking so innocent at the same time.

But she was also selfless, and generous. And kind. She was so very kind.

She was an angel.

And he thought of her; every time he was sad, or hurt.

When his father shouted at Selene Nott, his mother; he thought of her.

When his father would drink and drink and drink; he thought of her.

When his mother would hold him and cry; he thought of her.

When his father hit him; until he was screaming and begging begging him to stop; he thought of her.

When his father hit and abused his mother; he thought of her.

He would think of her lovely smile, and the dimple in her left cheek.

And he would think of her sparkling gray-blue eyes.

And he wouldn't feel so bad anymore.

When he was eight, his father was yelling at his mother; as usual.

But then he began to hit her.

And Theodore, who loved his mother more than anyone else on the planet, stood up for her.

Because he was tired of watching him hurt her.

And his father, who got angry at him, shouted.

He whipped Theodore until he bled.

Selene took him to Malfoy Manor at three in the morning, begging Narcissa to help him heal.

Because Selene knew that Tiberius Nott would never hurt Theodore over here.

And Theodore began to have frequent sleep overs at Malfoy Manor.

While Selene took the full force of her husband's anger to protect her son.

Every time Theodore would see his mother she would have new bruises.

She was frail, and weak, and timid.

But she still smiled.

Her little handsome boy was her pride and joy.

And it broke Theodore inside.

He vowed that someday, he'd make his father pay.

Instead, he pretended everything was fine. He pretended to smile, and pretend his life was normal.

Draco never found out. Blaise never found out. Theodore wanted to tell them, but he didn't, because he didn't want Ophelia to find out. 

He didn't want her to look at him differently.

He didn't want her to care for him just because he was damaged.

He was nine when he gave up on life.

He was nine when he was left alone.

He was nine when his mother died.

When his mother killed herself.

And it broke him into a million pieces.

It was September 1st, 1988, and he was at Malfoy Manor when he got the news.

Narcissa held him in her arms as they both cried. 

One cried for the loss of his mother, the other cried for the loss of her best friend.

He refused to eat.

He couldn't sleep.

He had lost the only real family he had.

Ophelia was only eight at that time.

She was worried that he hadn't eaten.

She found him on the couch in the middle of the night, and gave him all her chocolate.

Theo still remembered that night; it was crystal clear in his mind. She was wearing a long white nightgown, her blonde curls cascading down her shoulders messily.

She gave him a hug. 

His first hug from her.

She told him his mother was now an angel in heaven. And she promised him he'd always be there for him.

And he hugged her back.

And perhaps, he thought, maybe he wasn't so lonely in this cruel world.

For Ophelia was an angel, made from everything good and pure on this earth. And if she said his mother was in heaven, then he believed her.

At least his mother was away from the hell his father had made.

A year later, he found out from his house elf that his mother did not kill herself.

She was pushed off the balcony.

She was murdered by Tiberius Nott.

By her husband.

By Theodore's father.

And from that day onwards, Theodore Nott decided that he had no father.

He was an orphan.

Theodore visited Malfoy Manor a lot less now that his mother was gone. His father was always home, always drunk, and constantly giving him things to do, and whipping him without restraint.

The physical bruises hurt. But the mental bruises never healed.

He was left with scars on his back, and scars in his heart.

When his father wasn't home, he'd floo to Malfoy Manor.

To see her.

He used Draco as the excuse, but he needed to see her.

Just a glimpse.

Just a small flash of her smile.

That was enough to keep him going strong for weeks.

It gave him hope.

Hope to go on.

And his father continued to hit him, and whip him. The drunk bastard was so selfish... 

But Theo didn't give up.

He endured.

He endured and he endured because that was what his mother had done before him.

He felt it was his fault his mother was gone.

He wasn't there when it happened.

Perhaps he could have stopped it.

But it was too late.

So he endured, because this was what she went through, and it was the least he could do in return for her keeping him safe.

And the physical scars increased, and so did the scars in his heart.

But every time he saw Ophelia, she healed a scar in his heart.

Just by smiling at him.

Before Ophelia's tenth birthday, Lucius sent Tiberius Nott the invitation, along with a note telling him that he wanted to discuss business.

That meant Theodore would be able to attend Ophelia's birthday, while Lucius and Tiberius would have a meeting.

When Ophelia's birthday rolled on, Theodore made sure he was dressed well. The dress code was black tie, so he wore his best suit.

And he wore a gray tie.

Because it was the color of her eyes.

His favorite color.

When he got to Malfoy Manor, he instantly noticed that it was rather a huge event. Pansy Parkinson, Daphne and Astoria were invited too, along with their parents.

Theodore also noticed that the Davies family was present too, along with the Bulstrodes, Mulcibers and Montagues.

Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise were there too.

Ophelia was seated at the girls' table, dressed in a light blue dress, and a diamond tiara.

She looked like a princess.

Theodore knew she was completely uninterested in the conversation going on at the girls' table.

He could tell by the way Ophelia had a small crinkle between her brows, and how she fidgeted with her blonde curls.

After she cut the cake, and played the party games, the adults went to the drawing room to converse, leaving the children to play in the garden.

Ophelia ignored Astoria's calls to play, and made a bee-line for Draco, Theodore and Blaise, who were playing pirates.

But as she approached them, asking if she could play with them, Draco refused, told her to go away, and to stay away from him and his friends, because it was annoying to have a girl in their only boys group.

Ophelia's eyes watered, and as tears spilled down her cheeks, she ran off, her pretty blue dress billowing in the wind. 

It broke Theodore to see her cry.

He followed her to the treehouse, and despite her constantly telling him to go away and leave her alone, he stayed to comfort her.

It was one of his favorite memories.

He still remembered their conversation.

"Ophelia, don't cry," he had whispered softly. "Please. Don't be sad on your birthday."

"I d-don't have any friends," Ophelia wiped her tears, looking up at him with her tearful gaze. "I don't have anyone to play with."

"You have me," Theodore whispered, pulling her into a hug. "I'll always be your friend. I'll play with you. You're special to me."

"Really?" she asked sweetly, dried tears surrounding her eyes.

He nodded. 

She smiled. She gave Theodore that big smile of hers, the smile that he loved so much; the smile that showed off the dimple in her left cheek. "Thank you. I'll always be your friend too."

But their friendship wasn't meant to last.

In a few months, Theodore was going to Hogwarts with Draco.

And he missed Ophelia terribly.

Every night, he'd think about her, right before he slept.

At Hogwarts, she wrote to Draco everyday, telling him that she missed him.

Draco opened the first two, reading them without replying. But the rest of her letters, he tossed them aside, unopened.

And Theodore felt hurt for Ophelia. For the angelic girl who loved her brother, and took the time and effort to write to him everyday.

Only for her efforts to go in vain.

Secretly, Theodore would read each of her letters before tossing them away.

It made him smile; to read her words like they were her voice.

Until she stopped writing to Draco.

Theodore was sad that he wouldn't get to hear from her any more. He wouldn't get to know how she was doing.

But the next day, he got a letter from her.

She asked how he was doing, she asked about Draco. And she told him what she was up to. She told him all about her long, boring days at Malfoy Manor.

And Theo wrote back.

And she wrote back.

And it was wonderful.

For the first time in his life, he was happy.

His letters were short compared to hers, because he didn't know what else to write.

But her letters made him smile. Her letters were the highlight of his day.

But they weren't meant to last.

Not for long.

November 29th, 1991

Theodore sat at the desk in his dormitory, writing a letter to Ophelia. He told her he was looking forward to seeing her at Christmas, and asked her how she was doing.

He looked down at the letter he'd written, his neat cursive filling the page.

Dear Ophelia,

Thank you for your last letter. How are your piano lessons going? Is your tutor nice? 

Hogwarts is alright. There's so much homework. It would have been more fun with you.

I can't wait to see you at Christmas. I really miss you.

I also wanted to tell you something. I know your father would kill me if he read this, so please don't show it to him or keep it in a place where anyone can find it.

Someday, I'd like to marry you.

When I'm older.

I don't know if you feel the same, but I thought you should know.

I love your pretty eyes, and your smile. And I like how I can tell you anything. I sometimes think I'm too young to know what love feels like, but I know this:

I love you. 

And I hope you feel the same.

Love, Theo.

"Who're you writing to?" Draco drawled, levitating his shoes into the air, practicing the 'Wingardium Leviosa' spell that Professor Flitwick had taught them.

"N-no one," Theodore cleared his throat quickly, covering the letter with his hand.

But he was too slow.

"My sister?" he scoffed, tearing Theodore's letter into half. "You love her?" Draco gritted his teth.

Theodore said nothing, the tips of his ears turning red, heat flooding through him. Nobody was supposed to find out—

"Stop writing to her," Draco ordered. 

It felt like Theo's heart was on fire. "What?" His voice was barely above a whisper. "Why?"

"Stop writing to her," Draco repeated. "Stay away from her. Completely."

"But why?" Theodore asked, his throat dry.

"You were my friend first. Not hers. She takes everything I have. I'm not going to let her take away my best friend too. 'Bros before hoes.' Avery, the fifth year taught me this," Draco told Theodore seriously. "It means friends before girls."

"She— takes away everything?" Theodore repeated, brows furrowing at Draco's statement.

Draco shrugged. "My father's attention, affection... I'm forced to give her everything because she's my little sister."

"Oh," Theodore's throat constricted. He'd always thought Draco was lucky to have Ophelia as his sister. At least he had someone to hang out with, and play with. But now he realized that Draco didn't like Ophelia.

"Make her hate you. If you don't, then we can't be friends anymore," Draco ordered, folding his arms across his chest. "Can you do that?"

Theodore knew what that meant.

If he and Draco weren't friends, that would mean he wouldn't be welcome at Malfoy Manor anymore.

His second home. 

Aunt Narcissa; his mother's best friend.

But most of all, her.

Ophelia.

He wouldn't be able to see her.

And Theo wasn't sure he could live with that.

"Do we have a deal?" Draco's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Theodore looked at Draco, and at the remains of his letter on the floor, before nodding, his chest tight.

"We do."

From then on, Theo avoided Ophelia. He couldn't bring it in himself to make hate her hate him though.

During Christmas, he'd stayed with the Malfoys.

Ophelia kept trying to talk to him.

But he couldn't let her in, he couldn't fall for her irresistible charms. So he smiled briefly at her, and made sure to stay away from her completely.

Up until Draco told him he could do better at making her hate him.

When she joined Hogwarts, it became harder.

But she was in Gryffindor, and he called her a Filthy Bloodtraitor as an excuse to stay away from her, and make her hate him.

In reality, Theodore never cared what house Ophelia was in.

She was still the eight year old girl who promised to always be there for him, the day his mother died.

Two years. He didn't go near her.

But he couldn't control saying something when he bumped into her in his fourth year. She had grown pretty, but she still looked the same as she always did.

He wanted to hug her. He wanted to apologize for hurting her.

But he remembered Draco's words from first year.

Make her hate you.

And so, he called her Baby Malfoy.

She'd grown so feisty. He liked it. A lot. More than he should have. 

Gryffindor was a good color on her.

He couldn't help but argue back, teasing her, toying with her.

He didn't like hurting her, but talking to her made him feel alive.

It made him want to live.

And her smart mouth— God. It would be the death of him. 

She said something vicious, and he was overcome with the desire to kiss her, so he pinned her to the wall.

But he couldn't.

He controlled himself.

Instead, he had to hurt her; physically.

Because if he kissed her, Draco would kill him.

Kissing her was as good as saying goodbye to her, never seeing her again.

And so, Theodore would insult her, and hurt her whenever he crossed paths with her.

And he was getting so sick of it.

Of being the cause of her tears.

Of being the cause of her lack of sleep.

Of being the cause of her skipping meals when she already ate less.

In his fourth year, he then discovered muggle cigarettes.

They gave him temporary pleasure.

But it wasn't enough.

He still saw her in his mind.

And then he turned to alcohol.

He'd drink often, then take a hangover potion from Montague in Sixth Year.

But it still wasn't enough.

And then, he decided to distract himself with other girls.

That worked better.

This was how he spent his fourth and fifth years.

Drugs, drinking and sex.

And hurting her.

He watched her fall for the Creevey boy. The mudblood.

He watched from afar how she always smiled around him.

He watched Creevey do all the things he longed to do.

From hugging her, to brushing her blonde hair behind her ear.

He watched the girl he loved fall in love with another.

And he watched him break her heart too, when he got a girlfriend.

When the mudblood chose another girl over the most precious angel in the whole world. Poor Creevey didn't know what he was missing.

Leaving her heartbroken.

And for a while, Theodore was okay with watching her from afar, and occasionally sitting in the table behind her when she was in the library.

And making her hate him.

Until that night.

When he bumped into her in the astronomy tower.

He was smoking.

And he was high.

So high.

Too high to think rationally.

They had a decent conversation.

But then, Draco's words came into his head again, "make her hate you."

And so, he ended up hurting her with his words.

I don't mean it. I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry, he longed to say.

But he couldn't.

When he saw a pearly tear slowly travel down her cheek, he died internally for a brief moment.

And his façade crumbled.

But just for a moment.

He couldn't keep doing this. 

He couldn't keep hurting her.

It was killing him. 

It was tearing open all the scars in his heart.

"I can't do this anymore," he muttered, and brought his lips down to meet hers.

Kissing her was everything he dreamed of and more.

It made him breathe. It made him feel alive.

She tasted of everything holy and sinful off this earth, sending him to the highest heaven, and to the deepest hell, banished for eternal damnation; because he knew one taste of her would never be enough.

He would always want more.

He would always need more.

Her perfume of lilies and jasmine intoxicated him, and he loved she always smelt of those strawberries she was constantly eating. She tasted of her favorite sugar quills and lavender and cinnamon... The feel of her delicate skin under his hands, and her soft little breaths that left her lips were enough to drive him crazy.

His lips battled hers in a fierce tango, and he kissed her like a starved man eating his first and last meal in years.

She was a goddess. She had him wrapped around her  little, delicate finger, and she didn't know it. 

She was his. 

And he was hers.

Only hers, and nobody else's.

He was hers; from the moment he saw her for the first time when she was three, shyly waving to him as she hid behind her mother's dress.

He was hers; since that time he was introduced to her, when she blushed adorably because he kissed her hand like the little gentleman he was brought up as. He was only four at the time.

But she was his.

She always had been, and he hoped she always would be.

And right now, her first kiss was his too. 

He stole it, but he wouldn't let anyone else have it.

She was his. Only his.

And she kissed him back.

She was ethereal, she was phenomenal, she was better than anything in this world. Better than drugs, better than weed, better than cigarettes, firewhiskey, sex, better than anything he had ever experienced.

Every limb tingled with desire. 

Every drop of his blood buzzed with energy.

And his heart. His heart sung a song; a catastrophic melody that filled his body with chaos.

And he was desperate for her. He craved her like Satan craved sin.

But then she pulled away, leaving them both breathing heavily.

God knew it wasn't enough.

He'd had his first taste of her, and he wanted more.

And before he could do anything more, he forced himself to leave.

He was burning hot everywhere.

He had fucked up.

He had made a mistake.

He wasn't supposed to kiss her.

Kissing her was forbidden.

But damn, did that mistake of kissing her become the best mistake he had ever made.

It was worth it. 

The boiling of his blood, and the coursing of guilt through his veins was worth the taste of her.

They were right, when they said that forbidden fruit was the sweetest.

She was the sweetest fruit he had ever tasted.

He swore to himself never do it again; he couldn't make any more mistakes. He couldn't lose control again.

Because if he did, then he wouldn't be able to stop.

 He left her in the Astronomy tower alone, knowing he had hurt her beyond measure this time.

Another scar joined those in his heart.

A scar that symbolized the fact that he was hurting, because he had made her hurt.

But he had underestimated Ophelia's stubbornness, as she hunted him down the very next day and yelled at him. She practically told him he was selfish for stealing her first kiss and taking advantage for her.

Theo knew she was mad because she kissed back.

But that only made Theo feel better.

I was her first kiss. And she liked it enough to kiss back.

The thought filled him with more pride than he could ever imagine.

So he kissed her again.

He was being selfish, but he couldn't help it. All these years without her, he was being selfless. He deserved to be selfish once more.

Just one more time.

And this one felt even better than the first.

This one was full of passion, as Theo conveyed all his unspoken words and hidden emotions and apologies through this kiss.

She kissed him back here too.

And then he had to lie to her and said it meant nothing.

Lies. It meant everything to me. It's the only thing that's given my life meaning so far.

I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry.

I hope someday you can forgive me.

He avoided her for the rest of the year.

When her birthday came, he wanted to set up a picnic for her, take her on a date.

But he couldn't do it.

Instead, he bought her a pair of delicate pearl and diamond earrings and signed it off with Draco's name.

He only told Blaise of his plan.

And then he saw her wearing them.

She looked so pretty.

When she came to thank Draco, Blaise said it was him. Sure, Blaise had gotten yelled at by Draco later, but Blaise didn't mind.

Because Blaise knew that if Draco found out it was Theo instead of Blaise, everything would shatter.

For now, Theo owed Blaise one.

Two months later Lucius was imprisoned.

In Azkaban.

Nobody told Ophelia.

They knew she wouldn't be able to take the news.

And Theo hurt even more, trying not to imagine her tears and cries and screams when she would find out that Lucius was gone.

But Theo hoped he would be there for her when she found out. She would be shattered. He only wished he could hold her in his arms as she cried.

And on the train, back home, he'd carried her trunk for her.

He pretended to be annoyed by her.

Yet he couldn't help but notice she was checking him out.

It felt good.

So fucking good.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he'd whispered into her ear. 

Because he couldn't resist teasing her one more time before the summer holidays.

She scowled. She tried to look like she was annoyed.

But he knew it was a lie, because he could see the tips of her ears turning red.

And the blush on her cheeks— Absolutely worth it.

His summer was hell, as usual.

His father continued to hit him.

But Theo was strong. He didn't cry anymore. 

Instead, he fought back.

He was now almost stronger than his father.

But he knew Ophelia's summer was worse than whatever he endured here.

The Dark Lord was staying at Malfoy Manor.

And Lucius was in Azkaban; the one person who could look after Ophelia properly.

He wrote to Narcissa once, asking her how everything was. Without Lucius, he knew she wouldn't be in good shape. She had looked after him for all the years since his mother's passing, and he felt like he owed her something.

He found out that Draco and Ophelia were getting closer.

And it filled him with relief.

She would be alright. At least she had someone.

He wrote to Draco, who wrote back that Ophelia was the only thing keeping him going.

And Theo felt a small sliver of hope. That if Draco didn't hate Ophelia any more, then perhaps he would be okay sharing his friends...

He had hope.

Hope that perhaps Draco might be alright with him pursuing Ophelia after all.

On September the first, 1996, Theodore was due to start his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Before boarding the train, he lay flowers on his mother's grave, sitting with her for an hour.

He did this every year. Every September the first.

Eight years it had been since her passing.

Not a day went by that he didn't miss her.

He silently cried at her grave.

He got messy, he got muddy.

But he didn't care.

"I hope you're thinking of me in Heaven," he had whispered, before turning around and heading to Kings Cross Station.

He got on the train, and instantly began looking for Draco.

Blaise accompanied him.

And Blaise found him in a compartment with his sister.

Theo walked in.

And then he saw her.

And the first thing that he noticed was how beautiful she had gotten over the years.

She was beautiful. Breathtaking.

Theodore felt himself suck in a puff of air.

He couldn't look away.

He was mesmerized by her beauty, by her elegance, by her charm, by her.

He had always found her pretty. But this year, she had changed.

Her blonde hair was longer than ever, shiny and wavy, and she had gotten curvier, taller... She was still half a foot shorter than him, but she looked gorgeous. Her face had matured, her figure had filled out.

And her eyes. God, her eyes. Sparkling hues of stormy gray clouds and deep blue waves crashed together in her pretty irises.

Theodore was at a loss of breath.

When did she grow up so much?

When did she look so desirable? When did she start looking like a young woman?

She had even worn her hair down, after a long time. Usually it was always in a ponytail, or a French twist.

But when it was down?

He loved it. 

He longed to run his hands through her hair.

Through her long, blonde, silky strands.

He couldn't stop staring at her.

It was like she had cast a spell on him that rendered him breathless, speechless and fucked in the head.

"Baby Malfoy," he drawled, trying to control his racing heart and maintain his cool composure, resuming his façade of hating her. "Not so baby anymore..."

She didn't reply.

Even Draco believed his act. Even Draco thought he hated her.

Theo accompanied Draco and Blaise to the Slytherin compartment.

But he internally just wanted to stay with her.

And suddenly, as he glanced at her at the Gryffindor table, she was wearing a Slytherin scarf around her neck.

Whose was it?

Theodore suddenly wanted to tear it up into a million pieces.

But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel that she looked absolutely stunning wearing Slytherin colors.

He wished it was his scarf she was wearing instead.

He stared at her longingly as the sorting begun.

Theodore looked over at the new first years.

He recognized one of them. Adrienne Selwyn. She was his mother's sister's daughter, his cousin.

But he had only met her twice.

His father refused him from keeping in touch with his mother's side of his family.

She was sorted into Gryffindor.

Theodore was only filled with more dread.

If she wasn't in Slytherin, then he wouldn't be able to look after her.

She would have a tough time in Gryffindor. She would be called a Bloodtraitor.

Adrienne was already crying.

And it broke Theo.

That was when he saw Ophelia comforting her.

His heart warmed when he saw her.

Looking so sweet and gentle as she tried her best to cheer his cousin up.

He was so proud of her. 

So fucking proud, as he watched her make his cousin smile.

He knew then that his cousin Adrienne was safer in Gryffindor than she would ever be in Slytherin.

Adrienne had Ophelia.

She had an angel looking after her.

And that smile of Ophelia's.

It left him breathless. It was like a punch to his gut.

Her whole face hit up when she smiled.

And the dimple in her left cheek— he longed to brush it with her thumb.

Adrienne seemed happy with Ophelia, meaning Theodore could relax. 

She was fine.

He did not stop staring at her as he ate.

Ophelia ate seven bites.

He counted, from far away, seated at the Slytherin table.

It killed Theodore that she wasn't eating enough.

He looked down at his piled plate, pushing it away, not hungry anymore.

He couldn't eat while she starved herself.

He longed to force-feed her, make her eat properly, spoil her with the strawberries and cream that she loved.

But he couldn't.

Turns out the Slytherin scarf belonged to Blaise.

She returned it to him.

Thank God. 

If it had belonged to anyone else they'd be sporting a black eye the next morning.

When Ophelia got up to go to the Gryffindor common room, Theodore couldn't help but notice that Creevey followed her out of the Great Hall.

His protective urges kicked in.

He stood up, excused himself, and followed.

Ophelia entered a deserted corridor.

Theo saw Colin follow.

Ophelia hadn't seen Creevey him yet.

He saw them in the corridor.

He stayed where he was, in the shadows.

He stood from afar and watched the girl he loved and her best friend.

Like he had done so for the past four years.

He still never got used to it.

And then the mudblood pulled her in, making Theodore's blood claw at his skin. He was holding what was his; what had been his since he was four.

The way she looked at the mudblood; Theo wished she looked at him that way too....

He was so close to her.

They were hugging.

Whispering.

Theo couldn't hear what they were saying.

But Ophelia was crying. Theo wanted nothing more than to kiss her tears away.

The lucky bastard Creevey brushed them away with his scarf.

They murmured softly to each other.

And Ophelia threw herself at her best friend, kissing him.

What Theo saw next crushed his heart into fine powder.

His eyes watered, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get the image of Ophelia kissing Creevey out of his mind.

Eight years ago, today, he lost his mother to the grim reaper.

And today, eight years after the loss of his mother, he had now lost the only girl he ever loved to her best friend.

The same exact day.

Two of the most important women in his life.

Gone.

{ this was the saddest chapter i have ever written. i cried.
i have been waiting for this moment. now you see the truth. now you see why theo has been such a jerk.
now you know theo's story.
what are your thoughts? i'd love to know. please, spam me with comments, and vote, follow and share.
i feel so bad for my baby theo, he doesn't deserve this.
how do you think ophelia will feel when she finds this out?
there is big drama coming ahead guys, but it's gonna be slow. i warned you from the start, this is a slow burn. and when i do slow burn, i do it really, really slowly and very very messily.
so i hope you know what you signed up for when you chose to read this book.
this is just the beginning.
answers to the last chapter questions:
favorite album: folklore
favorite song: exile/wildest dreams.
ONLY ONE PERSON GOT IT RIGHT
anyway, take care you guys. luv you.
please follow me on spotify. (dessertoholic)
and question: should i drop my insta? would you guys follow?
anyway,
lots of love, jasmine. }

{NOV 22. 2023}