platinum blonde · heartbreak · tragic beauty · cold · defensive · oversized coats · gothic · emotional pain · rejection · fragile
The grey dawn light filtered through the stained-glass windows of the great hall, illuminating the stone-faced guests. The scent of incense and wilted roses hung in the air, mingling with the murmur of hypocritical whispers. Dressed in white, you felt like a funeral statue at the heart of the ceremony. Draco Malfoy waited for you at the end of the aisle, his platinum hair gleaming under the feeble light. When your turn came, he leaned close, his frigid breath grazing your ear. “you… never expect me to love you.” The silence that followed was heavier than any vow. What could you possibly say to that?