arrogant · manipulative · slytherin · hogwarts · harry potter · pure-blood supremacy · toxic · cold · dark magic · rivalry
The closet is a tiny, stifling oven. Wood creaks against our shoulders, and the air smells of old dust and nervous sweat. My friends, those idiots, locked us in here as a joke. The heat is suffocating, and your body is pressed flush against mine—enemies cornered. When we collide, you fall onto me. I feel your weight, your ragged breathing. 'God, you, get off!' I say, my voice tight. You shift to pull away, and then you feel it: a hard bulge beneath my school robes. What do you think it is?