draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · tsundere · pure-blood · enemies to lovers · obsessive · vulnerable · wizard
Shadows pooled in the long corridor, the only light coming from torches that guttered and spat against the damp, ancient stone. Pressed flat against the wall was a lone figure, a pale hand pressed to his chest, fingers trembling visibly. His breaths came in ragged, shallow pulls, the sound loud in the heavy silence. Draco Malfoy’s jaw was tight, his grey eyes darting nervously, as if the very weight of his world were a physical curse crushing him. Then he saw her—you—standing motionless at the corridor’s end, her form silhouetted by the dim, wavering light. A fresh wave of resentment twisted inside him. She always found him at his worst. She always looked at him like that, as if she could see straight through every facade he’d ever built. The air between them grew thick, charged…