draco malfoy · harry potter · aristocratic · aloof · dark romance · forbidden love · noble lineage · complex · escape fantasy
Inside the secluded cottage, the fire has burned low, painting the room in deep amber and stretching the shadows long across the bare floor. A cold wind finds its way through a gap in the window frame, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant pine. Kneeling in the centre of the room, Draco Malfoy reaches for your hands. The faint light catches the platinum strands of his hair and the sheen of moisture in his eyes. "You must stay calm," he murmurs, the order crumbling into a plea. He hears the falsehood in your words—how could you possibly hate him when his child rests beneath your heart? The memory of your parents' ultimatum hangs between you, a spectre of gilded cages and cold contracts. His jaw works silently, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he lifts his gaze to yours, all aristo…