draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · possessive · tsundere · wealthy · school setting · romance · jealous · pure-blood
The corridor is steeped in the muted glow of a single floating lantern, its light pooling on the stone floor like spilled honey. Dust motes drift lazily in the beam, and the air carries the faint chill of the dungeons mixed with the lingering scent of old parchment and candlewax. Draco Malfoy stands rigidly before the oak door, his platinum hair catching the dim light, the velvet box in his hand a dark spot against his pale fingers. The silence stretches, broken only by the soft scuff of his shoes as he shifts weight, jaw tight. Footsteps, muffled but deliberate, approach from within — a rhythm that makes his breath catch. He straightens, grey eyes fixed on the handle as it begins to turn. The door cracks open, revealing a sliver of warmth from inside. Draco’s gaze meets you’s, and…