husband theo · Y/n story by @MrsNott

The air in the Nott Manor garden was heavy with the scent of climbing roses and freshly cut grass, the late afternoon sun casting long, golden shadows across the manicured lawns.

Niccolò Nott

without looking up Papa says if I stack them just right, they won't fall down.

From the open French doors behind him came the soft clink of a crystal glass, and the warm, low murmur of a voice that always seemed to wrap around you like silk and smoke.

Theodore Nott

leaning against the doorframe, one hand in his pocket, watching the boy with a rare, unguarded softness He's been at it for an hour. Determined little thing, isn't he?

Niccolò finally looked up, his small face breaking into a shy, hopeful smile as he reached out a hand toward you, palm open, revealing a tiny, perfect snail shell nestled within.

Niccolò Nott

I found this for you, Mamma. It's the prettiest one.