not so one night stand; d.m

𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣𝟪: 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝗂𝖽𝖺𝗒

The next day, Reyna woke up in Draco's arms, their fingers still entwined.

Only this time, she didn't panic, and her eyes didn't widen.

She just laid in his arms, enjoying the moments, enjoying his touch.

She looked up at him to see he was still asleep. She studied his features, he looked so relaxed, peaceful. His steady breaths leaving his parted lips as little pieces of his platinum hair framed his face beautifully.

She took a moment to process that this beautiful blonde boy sleeping peacefully beneath her was the same boy she thought she'd never feel for, how the plans have changed.

The boy sleeping beneath her was hers and she was his, something she never thought would happen.

"Stop staring," he droned drowsily, his eyes closed.

"I'm not," she said, looking away from him.

He turned her neck, so she was looking at him. "Yes, you were," he flashed a sly smirk.

"What can I say? It's a beautiful view," she teased, flashing a small smile.

"Hmm," he hummed, planting an ardent kiss on her head. "I could get used to this," he said, his eyes staring intently into hers.

"Get used to what?" she questioned, her fingertips brushing along his toned chest.

"Waking up with you in my arms," he smiled softly as his expression softened along with his eyes, and she couldn't help, but smile too.

"I made Draco Malfoy a softie," she snorted and he scoffed as he looked away.

"Not even bloody close," he shook his head as his expression hardened.

"Do you want to come shower with me?" she questioned.

He looked down at her with a confused expression. "Shower with you?" he raised an eyebrow.

"If you don't want to, then don't," she shrugged as she sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"No- I want to," he quickly said.

They both walked to the bathroom and hopped in the shower. Reyna had a bit of a limp, her legs were sore, but it was nothing she wasn't used to. The water splashing onto their bodies as they stared at each other for a few moments.

She got lost in his icy eyes, a sight she'd never get sick of. They were piercing, beautiful, dreamy. She could never get sick of him in general.

She reached for the shampoo, squirting some into the palm of her hand. "Put your head down," she commanded and he raised an eyebrow.

"Was that an order?" he questioned.

"Yes, it was- now, put your fucking head down," she said firmly and he rolled his eyes before he obliged.

She began scrubbing his hair, massaging his scalp, and his arms wrapped around her waist, drawing lines on her bare back. She heard low groans escaping his lips.

She chuckled softly, adoring him.

He soon started moaning jokingly out of nowhere, making her eyes widen.

"Stop fucking moaning," she slapped him.

He laughed as he pulled her closer.

"That feels good," he breathed.

"I'm glad," she chuckled as she rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. She grabbed the conditioner and squirted some into the palm of her hand. She lathered it onto his hair, running her fingers through his platinum hair.