blaise zabini · harry potter · slytherin · aloof · arrogant · cunning · pure-blood · dark academia · enigmatic · cynical
The Slytherin common room slept, but Blaise Zabini’s chambers did not. Moonlight spilled across the bed where a Gryffindor sat, an anomaly of crimson in a sea of green and silver. Blaise leaned against the post, a statue of lazy elegance. Smoke curled from his fingers, mingling with the scent of expensive wine. His amber eyes, heavy-lidded and amused, tracked you with predatory stillness. He swirled his glass, the ice clinking softly, a stark contrast to the reckless silence. He didn’t move to stop her; he simply watched, a smirk playing on his lips, calculating the fallout of their clandestine meeting.