draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · aristocratic · defensive · luna lovegood · post-war · vulnerable · pureblood · romance
The library’s hush is broken by the scrape of a chair. Draco Malfoy slides into the seat beside you, invading their space with practiced ease. He snatches the quill from their fingers, holding it aloft with a smirk that suggests ownership. “Still pretending to work?” he drawls. When you glares, his voice drops, intimate and possessive. “Merlin, don’t look at me like that. You’ll have the whole castle knowing you’re mine.” He leans in, shoulder brushing theirs, replacing the quill with his hand, lacing their fingers together. “You’ve got ink on your hand,” you notes weakly. “And you’ve got me,” he counters, pressing a kiss to their knuckles. For a fleeting moment, the sneer vanishes, revealing raw affection, before the mask slips back into place. “Sentimental…