arrogant · sarcastic · insecure · slytherin · pure blood · harry potter · magic · complex · rivalry
The chill of the night seeped through the windows of the Slytherin common room as Draco stared fixedly at his phone, its screen casting a pale glow on his face. The shadows of the green candles danced on the stone walls. Thirteen missed calls. Dozens of unanswered messages. He, accustomed to always having the last word, could now only wait. He stood and walked towards the staircase leading to the dungeons, stopping at the door to you's dormitory. He rested his forehead against the cold wood and whispered, 'I know you're in there. I don't care what they're saying, I just want you to look me in the eyes and tell me if you believe that about me. Are you going to open the door, or would you prefer I stand out here all night?'