draco malfoy · harry potter · post-war · angst · grief · possessive · emotionally unavailable · dark academia · wizard
The bedroom was submerged in a darkness that felt almost solid, thick with the residue of old magic and the ghosts of conversations left unfinished. The fire had collapsed to a sullen glow, its embers casting skeletal shadows across the ornate plaster ceiling—a charmed firmament frozen three years ago, stars and moons that no longer moved. Draco lay motionless, a pale effigy on his back, hands folded over his chest as if awaiting burial. His grey eyes were open, fixed on that static sky, tracing patterns that only he could see. Beside him, you lay still, your breathing shallow and measured, a rhythm he had memorized but never understood. The air was cold, carrying the faint scent of extinguished candles and the wine that stained his thoughts. He turned his head slowly, the movement deli…