nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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the letter
theodore nott x f! reader
summary: you get a letter from a secret admirer who wants to confess. your best friend is none too pleased.
notes: jealous! theodore nott >>>
word count: 1.4k
You would think for a magical school, Hogwarts would have better heating or some heating spell, but the Slytherin dorms are frigid as usual as winter creeps up. You fasten your robe clasps and draw it tighter around you, simultaneously trying to tug your skirt down in a futile way to heat yourself up more. Your knee-high socks only do so much and you pretty much give up on the endeavor as you climb up the stairs and head for the Great Hall.
You’re immediately greeted by the cozy warmth of the hall, spotting your friends, all swathed in green and silver robes and knits. Theo spots you first, sliding over and nearly knocking Blaise off the bench. “Blood hell, mate,” Blaise grumbles as you approach, kicking Theo’s leg lightly.
You slip into the space created for you, right in between Theo and Enzo. You stifle a yawn and ask, “Can someone pass the eggs and bacon?”
As Enzo reaches for both platters, Theo’s eyes zero in on your legs. “How are you not cold?”
You frown. “I am,” you reply, piling your breakfast onto your plate, “but Pansy’s demon cat apparently thought my winter tights were toys and decided to scratch them all up.”
Pansy sighs, “I’ve ordered you new ones, calm down.”
Theo drapes his robe over your legs and you smile gratefully at him. He smiles back and your heart flips. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how beautiful he is — all dark caramel curls and long lashes that frame those devastatingly blue eyes. He’s been your best friend since you started Hogwarts and you knew you loved him at first sight. The longer you’ve known him, the more you’ve fallen for him.
It’s a tale as old as the world itself: you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend but you value your friendship far too much to do anything to jeopardize it.
“Mail’s here,” you hear someone say down the table. You look up to the ceiling, which has been enchanted to look like a sky that’s about to break open and drop snowflakes from its clouds. Owls soar in through the openings at the top of the walls, diving down towards their intended recipients.
“Maybe your new tights are here,” Enzo says.
Pansy adds, “I hope so. Then you’ll stop complaining about it.”
You snort, reaching up to grab a letter dropped by your family owl. You feed her a piece of scrambled egg as she takes off back towards the owlery. You tuck your parents’ letter into the inner pocket of your robe just as another owl swoops overhead, dropping a pale blue envelope on your lap.
“Who’s that from?” asks Pansy.
You shrug, using your butter knife to open it up. As you do, Draco grumbles at Mattheo: “For the love of Salazar, stop hogging the pastry basket.”
You skim over the letter addressed to you. You tilt your head in confusion and Blaise asks, “What’s it say?”
Enzo peeks over your shoulder and his face breaks into a smirk. “‘Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight tonight. Signed, Your Secret Admirer.’” he reads.
“What?” Theo suddenly snatches the letter from your hand. You watch in confusion as his eyes dart back and forth. His shoulders tense and his mouth purses into a thin, hard line.
“You doing okay there, Nott?” Matthew asks, shooting a simpering smile at his friend. Theo sends a glare back but doesn’t say anything, the letter’s paper crinkling under his grip.
Pansy asks, “Are you going to go?”
You hesitate, surreptitiously glancing at Theo, startled to find that he’s gazing at you with an intensity you’ve never experienced. You pluck the letter from him and fold it neatly. “I think so,” you say. “I’m interested to see who it is.”
“Be sure to bring your wand,” Draco says. “Just in case.”
“Obviously,” you deadpan. The conversation shifts into whether anyone was prepared for midterms coming up.
You fiddle with the letter in your lap. Theo’s silent for the whole conversation.
You chew on your bottom lip as you reread the same sentence in your textbook for what feels like the hundredth time. The letter has stuck in your head the whole day. It crosses your mind that it could be a prank or a set-up — it’s not a secret that Slytherin isn’t the most popular House among your classmates — but you know you can handle yourself. You’re more worried about how Theo was acting at breakfast. He didn’t say a word the rest of the meal, not even when Enzo and Mattheo tried looping him into the conversation. He just sat there, sullen and gloomy, and his mood seemed to worsen more when you handed him his robe back and said you had to get to class.
You sigh heavily, trying to play out every possible scenario that could happen between you and the letter writer. You check the clock in the library: 11:45; you need to head over to the Astronomy Tower.
You groan, gathering your things, sliding them into your bag, and making your way back to the Slytherin common room to drop off your things in your dorm. “Cacophony,” you supply to the portrait, which swings open to let you in.
The common room is blissfully silent when you enter, a welcome contrast to the mess of thoughts in your head. You’re about to head down the hall to your dorm when you collide against someone. You huff an apology but when you feel their hand on your shoulder, you look up to see Theo. He looks intense, eyes wide and glinting with sharp determination and his mouth still set in that frown from earlier. “Sorry, Theo,” you say. “Didn’t see you there. Where are you going at this hour?”
“I was going to find you,” he replies.
“Oh,” you say. “Well, here I am. Sorry, I’ve got to drop this stuff off and then—”
“Head to the Astronomy Tower,” he finishes for you, “to meet your ‘secret admirer.’”
You don’t like the way he sneers at the last part of his sentence or the way he uses air quotations. You’re about to respond when he says, “Don’t go.”
“What?”
“Don’t go,” he repeats.
“Why not?”
He pauses before saying, “What if it’s someone just having a laugh?”
You bristle, hurt, and you feel your temper flare. “Is it so damn hard to believe that someone might actually have a crush on me?”
Theo laughs, razor-sharp and incredulous, as if he can’t believe that you’re saying something so outrageous, “No, it’s not.”
“Then why shouldn’t I go?”
“Because I don’t want you to!”
“For Salazar’s sake, Theo, you can’t tell me what to do!”
“I know that!”
“Then are you trying to tell me not to go?”
“Because I bloody like you!”
Your heart stutters to a stop. You can only hear the sounds of both of your labored breathing and you suddenly can’t meet his eyes, trying your best to wrap your head around the fact that your feelings are reciprocated. “How long?’ you ask softly, holding your breath.
“Since first year.”
You blink. “Really?”
He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs heavily, “Mattheo’s right; you’re so oblivious.” There’s another beat of silence and he asks, a little shyly, “How do you feel?”
You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face. “I like you too, Theo. I’ve liked you since first year as well.”
He echoes your “Really?” and it makes you giggle, “I guess we’re both oblivious.”
He joins your laughter and you let your forehead rest on his chest as your shoulders shake. When it dies down, Theo shifts you off him and lifts your chin with his forefinger, any semblance of coyness gone. You gaze into his ocean blue eyes. Salazar, you could drown in them. He offers a charming smile and he leans close, just a few centimeters away, and says, “Can I kiss you?”
Your eyelashes flutter and your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Your lips meet, fervent and desperate, years of yearning releasing like water through a broken dam. Theo hooks his arms around your waist, pulling you as close as possible. You wind your arms around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at his nape. He walks you backward, slipping his tongue into mouth as he crushes you up against the wall. He deepens the kiss and your knees go weak.
Theo moves your bag off your shoulder and drops it on the floor. The letter that rested at the top of the pile of possessions falls out, laying forgotten on the ground.
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