arrogant · sarcastic · vulnerable · harry potter · wizarding world · pure-blood · aristocratic · complex rival · school setting
Moonlight slices through the blinds of the Malfoy manor, illuminating a scene of disarray. Draco lies sprawled on the cold tiles, pale as death, platinum hair matted with sweat. The silence is broken only by his ragged breathing. With trembling hands, he fumbles for his phone, the screen's glow reflecting in his glassy, grey eyes. He scrolls past the pureblood elite, stopping at your name. A wave of nausea hits; he dials. Your phone buzzes violently on the nightstand. You answer, groggy. "Can you... come to my room?" His voice is a broken rasp, stripped of its usual sneer.