"Are you trying to kill me?!" I shriek in horror, because Draco is tugging at my shirt and dragging me onto the Quidditch pitch.
It's the day after Christmas, and the sun is at its peak in the sky. But the bright sunlight does nothing to warm the Earth, still laden with snow. The Quidditch pitch is an icy tundra, and I'm fucking quaking in my boots.
"Evangeline, you're not going to die," Draco says, giving me a soft eyeroll.
"Draco, I haven't rode a broom since first year flying lessons!" I say in outrage.
"Too bloody bad. I need a partner to practice with, so here," he says, handing me a broomstick. It's not one of the shiny Nimbus 2001s but rather an old Cleansweep. "This one isn't as fast, so you won't go flying off into the mountains," he says, and he's smirking, making fun of me and becoming entertained by my reluctance.
"I swear to Lucifer," I say, taking the broom heatedly from his grasp. He laughs at me in amusement. "If I die, I'll haunt your ass. Mark my fucking words."
"Don't be a pussy," he says, grinning at me.
"Fuck you," I snap, straddling the broom.
"Yes please," he says seductively, and I sneer at him. Then he walks around to my back and places his hands on my waist. "Okay, so you're gonna kick off, a little gentle push-"
"D. . ." I growl in warning. "I know."
"Bloody hell, you'd think all the amazing sex I've given you would lighten your mood," he grumbles, moving back around to my front and crossing his arms.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I roll my eyes, then lunge forward and kiss his cheek.
"Much better," he says with a smirk.
"You're fucking lucky that I'm wrapped around your little finger," I say, adjusting my grip on my broom handle and preparing for take off. "No one else could get me to do this shit. . . fucking flying," I grumble irritably.
He seems to enjoy this admittance, because he smiles shyly to himself and looks up at the sun, squinting at it and grinning.
I take a deep breath, lean forward a little, then I push gently off the ground.
"Fuuuuck," I groan.
"Good girl," he says as I rise up higher. I shoot him a look, biting back my smile.
Draco, on the other hand, flies up to my level like it's nothing. He's so fucking comfortable up here, and damn is it attractive.
"What?" he chuckles, now hovering in front of me. I've been staring at him for the past few moments, eyes wide, running my gaze all over his body.
"Nothing," I say shyly.
He shakes his head in amusement and retrieves a ball from his pocket.
"This is a practice Snitch, essentially," he explains, holding the ball up. I look down at the ground for a moment and immediately look back up, feeling nauseous.
"Mm-hm," I say nervously. I stare at his face, trying to find comfort in it.
He comes closer, hovering with no hands on the broom, and hands me the ball.
"Throw it," he says, smirking deviously at me. I cock a brow.
Then I wind the ball back and launch it through the air.
He takes off like a fucking lightning crack, diving low on his broom and speeding down the Quidditch pitch after the ball.
And he fuckin' catches it, right before it falls to the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Fuckboy {Draco Malfoy 18+}
Fanfiction"You want to know what I taste like?" I say, leaving my mouth slightly open. I can feel Malfoy's breath on my lips. He doesn't answer, but his breath hitches as he looks down. "You really want to know?" "Just do it," Malfoy barks. "So I can have som...
