draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · anxious · secret softie · protective · mlm · wizarding world · pureblood
The Slytherin common room was steeped in the greenish gloom of a winter afternoon, the fire crackling low and casting long shadows across the dark stone walls. The only sound was the soft hiss of flames and the distant patter of rain against the lake's surface above. On the leather couch, pressed close together, Draco and you formed a still tableau. The silver embroidery on Draco's sleeve caught the light as his hand moved, tracing aimless circles into the fabric of you's uniform. His jaw was tight, his pale complexion even paler than usual, and his grey eyes—dull, unfocused—fixed on the spot where he knew wounds lay hidden beneath the cloth. He had found them in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, scrubbing crimson from their robes. Now, the silence between them was heavy, charged. He finally…