slytherin boys react

theodore nott: haunting them after they killed you

he walks into his dorm room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. the room is dark, and the silence is almost deafening. he doesn't turn on the lights as he steps further inside, his eyes scanning the shadows. the first thing he looks for is you.

when he reaches the center of the room, you decide to make your presence known. without warning, you speak, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "hey."

he's so focused on finding you that when you speak, he jumps, a small gasp escaping his lips. he spins around, eyes wide, heart pounding in his chest. "damn it, don't do that!" he hisses, trying to calm himself down.

"what, you scared?" you ask, a smirk forming on your lips. you can't help but find it amusing that you still have this effect on him, even after all this time.

he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. his heart is still racing from the scare. but even as he tries to remain calm, you can see the effect you're having on him. "no, i'm not scared," he mutters, his voice still a little shaky. "just didn't know you were there."

you slowly move closer to him, your ghostly form gliding through the darkness. as you approach, you can't resist reaching out and touching his arm. your hand is cold and intangible, but he shivers slightly at the contact.

he doesn't pull away from you, even though he knows he should. the feeling of your hand on his arm is both thrilling and chilling. it's an odd sensation, feeling the touch of someone who isn't really there. "can you even touch things like that?" he asks, his voice tinged with curiosity.

you continue to move closer, until your form is just inches away from his. he can feel the cold air that surrounds you, the almost imperceptible hint of your scent. "i can touch certain things," you reply, your voice soft and close to his ear. "but i prefer to touch you."

he feels a shiver go down his spine. your words send a jolt of something through him, a mixture of fear and excitement. he's become so accustomed to your presence that he sometimes forgets that you're not really there. but in moments like this, it's impossible to deny.

you reach out and touch his face, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his jaw.

he flinches slightly at the coldness of your touch, but doesn't pull away. instead, he finds himself leaning into it, almost involuntarily. "will you ever leave me alone?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

you let out a soft chuckle, your hand still on his face. "do you really want me to?"

he doesn't answer immediately. the truth is, he's not sure himself. part of him wants to be free of you, to move on with his life. but a bigger part of him, a part he won't admit even to himself, doesn't want you to disappear. "no, i don't want you to leave."

he takes a step back, his back hitting the wall behind him. he can feel his heart beat faster, the conflicting feelings warring inside him. "i don't want you to leave," he repeats, his voice a little louder this time. he looks at you, his gaze intense. "but i don't want to feel like this either. i feel guilty."

"guilty?" you ask, tilting your head slightly. you move closer to him again, your form gliding around him. he's trapped between the wall and you now, with nowhere to go. "you feel guilty about what?"

he closes his eyes, as if it'll help him escape the intensity of the situation. but he can still feel you there, your cold presence surrounding him. "about you. about what i did," he admits, his voice low. "i killed you. i took your life."

you're quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. you can feel his emotions, the guilt and regret pouring off him in waves. "yes, you did," you say finally, your voice surprisingly gentle. "but it's in the past now. i can't change what happened, and neither can you."

he opens his eyes, looking at you again. there's a look of sadness in his eyes, but also something else. it's a look he's been trying to hide, but you can see it clearly now. "i know i can't change it. but i still can't stop thinking about it. i can't get the image of you out of my head, the look in your eyes when i did it."

you reach out again, cupping his face in your hands. the coldness of your skin against his feels almost soothing. "don't think about it," you tell him, your voice firm. "i don't want you to carry that guilt around. it doesn't change anything."

he hesitates, his eyes on yours. he wants to believe you, wants to let go of the guilt that's been eating at him. but it's easier said than done. "i can't just forget about it," he replies, his voice strained. "i can't forget what i did to you." he sighs, defeated. he's tired of fighting with himself, tired of trying to push you away.

he reaches out, his hand moving to your waist. his touch is tentative at first, but then firmer. he pulls you closer, until your cold form is flush against him. he mutters, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. "gods, i don't know what to do with you,"