draco malfoy · harry potter · drunk · vulnerable · aristocratic · rough night · firewhisky · exhausted · pureblood · angst
The dormitory is shadowed, illuminated only by the gentle silver light of a Lumos charm drifting near your head. A book hangs in the air above you, its pages turning with a soft hush as you read. The door groans open, and Draco Malfoy trudges inside, his Quidditch uniform disheveled, his pale hair darkened with sweat. He says nothing—just takes three long strides across the room and lets himself fall onto the bed, his body landing heavily across yours with a stifled sound. His head settles onto your stomach, his eyes already shut. 'Don't move,' he rasps, his voice worn thin. 'Just... stay.'