❝ You were the nicotine I never knew I needed. ❞
♛
Athea's nipples rubbed against the fabric of her lace bra, the cups fitting her round breasts. They were pressed harshly against the wooden planks of the floor. "Get up." Was all she heard before ab...
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I honestly hate how bipolar Draco is in this fic. Like one day he's "i love her omggggg my princess babygurl" and then the next he's like "FUCKING CUNT SHES NOT GOOD FOR ANYTHING BUT A GOOD QUICK FUCK. DUMB FUCKING WHORE THINKS SHES THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD."
like go home.
And yes ik ik I'm late again, nothing new.
Add me on snap, i post a lot of draco and HP stuff and sneak peaks, we can also all be big besties and I'll even make a gc for us if you want. It's umabakarova
That's the most Hufflepuff thing I've done, take it or leave it I'm already regretting it.
Draco woke up first.
His eyes fluttered open, the light bitter taste of alcohol stood in the back of his throat. He lay only in his boxers, intertwined with the black sheets. His hands were wrapped around a body, and that's when he remembered.
Her dark hair was laying messily over the pillows and a little on Draco's chest. He sighed, not wanting to deal with this at the moment. The plans he made with the quidditch team sneaked up at him, he lifted one of his hands; rubbing the bridge of his nose and groaning. He didn't feel like dealing with anything today, he just wanted to lay in bed all day and act like a little dark academia bitch that he would never admit he is. Draco's eyes sneaked up to his desk, noticing his sketch book laying neatly, ready for him.
A cup of earl grey would sound really nice right about now.
"Mhm, you're right—but shut up I want to sleep." Grumbled Athena, who still had her eyes closed but snuggled up closer to his body. She was facing away from him, moving her back closer to him, her body wrapped like a cocoon with the sheets. "And you smell bad." She added, sniffling her blanket.
Draco rolled his eyes, "Can you leave? I've got plans for today." He sat up, putting his feet onto the cold floor and pushing himself off the bed.
"Who put your knickers in a twist?" She groaned, unwrapping herself from the covers and slowly getting up, still in just a pair of his boxers. Malfoy ignored her comment and walked out of his bedroom to his bathroom. He took a moment to look at himself in the mirror, his body ached from yesterday. His torso was marked in scars from his father and Potter, the Dark Mark pitch black on his pale forearm. He wasn't jacked but he wasn't skinny, a perfect mix of lean and muscled. Draco's hair was messily kept, almost in curls from sleeping.
He ran his hand through it, then dragging his hands down under his eyes and looking at his red hues. The dark circles looked like a grey at this point. He took in his face, keeping eye contact with himself. That's when he really realized why everyone was so scared of him. He looked like a walking corpse. Like if a Tim Burton character was a murderer and walked into real life. 'Cause that's what he will be soon— a murderer.
