No labels. No promises. Just stolen nights and quiet heartbreak — two souls pretending they don’t already belong to each other.
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@elenacordThe Slytherin common room hummed with low conversations and the crackle of green-tinged firelight. Late October chill seeped through the stone walls, but the air inside was thick with the scent of old books, polished leather, and something sharper—whiskey, maybe, or regret.
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