slytherin boys react

theodore nott: finding what they wrote in their diary about you

you were wrapping up a study session with him in the library. as he gathers his things to head back to his dorm for the night, you ask if you can borrow some of his notes and papers. he agrees and hands them to you, not realizing that his diary is hidden beneath them. as he leaves, you notice the small pocket notebook, curiosity peaking within you. did he mean to give this to you as well?

carefully flipping through the pages, your eyes widen as you begin to read the words written inside. you realize it's his diary, and what started as innocent curiosity had quickly turned into a sickening realization.

as you continue to flip through the pages, you hear the library door creak open. you look up to see him re-entering the library, a look of concern on his face. he must have realized he left something behind. you quickly hide the notebook, holding it behind your back with one hand.

he walks closer to you, noticing the look on your face. "did you find my diary?" he says, trying to sound casual.

"wh- what diary?" you say, your voice giving away your true emotions.

he steps closer to you, his eyes scanning your face. he can tell you're hiding something, your expression betraying the truth. "don't play coy," he says, reaching for the notebook behind your back.

he grabs the notebook from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he flips through the pages. "you read it, didn't you?" he asks, a mixture of anger and desperation in his voice. he clenches the notebook tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white. "and now you know... everything."

"you're sick." you blurt out without thinking.

his eyes widen slightly, stung by your words. "sick?" he repeats, taking a step closer to you.

"you stalk me, you write about me in this... this diary like a lovesick puppy," you say, gesturing towards the notebook. "it's not healthy."

he scoffs, a bitter smile forming on his face. "you don't understand, do you? this is love, pure and simple. i can't help the way i feel about you. it's not my fault i'm obsessed, it's yours." he says.

"you don't love me. you don't even know me. you only love the idea of me, a version of me you've created in your head. it's not real." you say taking a step back, your expression a mix of fear and disgust.

"don't tell me how i feel," he snaps, lunging forward and grabbing your wrist. "you're wrong. this is love. i care about you more than anyone ever will. the thoughts i have about you, the things i want to do for you... it's all because i love you."

"i know what i feel, and i know i love you. you just don't understand, but you will. you'll see how deeply i care for you, and you'll come to love me back. you need me." he says, pulling you closer to him, the notebook falling to the floor.

"no, i don't need you. i don't need a stalker and a control freak in my life. you need to stop this, it's not right. you need help," you insist, your voice shaking slightly.

he clenches his jaw, his grip on your wrist becoming almost painful. "i don't need help. i need you. i can't stop this, i can't ignore my feelings. don't you see how strong they are? how much i love and need you in my life? i'd do anything for you, anything to make you mine."

"you're scaring me," you whisper, your voice cracking.

for a brief second, you see a flicker of guilt in his eyes. but it's quickly replaced by determination. "don't be afraid of me," he murmurs, his voice softer now. "i would never hurt you. i love you more than anything." he says.

he releases your wrist and reaches up to touch your cheek gently. his hand is trembling slightly as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. "just trust me, okay? i can make you happy, i can give you everything you need. just let me take care of you."