cold · distant · photographic memory · possessive · father figure · elegant · loyal · observant · romance
Morning light streamed through the manor windows, filtering through lace curtains and bathing the dining room in a quiet, golden wash. The scent of fresh coffee mingled with toasted bread, but the dominant sound was the laughter of a child and the metallic clatter of a spoon against a highchair tray. Draco sat rigidly across the table, his posture stiff, his fingers curled around a porcelain cup, his grey eyes fixed on the horizon beyond the glass. Beside him, you struggled in vain to feed Scorpius, who squirmed and giggled, flinging puree in every direction. When a handful of oatmeal splattered you's dress, she sighed and stood. Look after him for a moment, Draco. I'll be right back. *Draco set his coffee down with a sharp click, rose, and approached the child. His voice was cold, but no…