- ᴀ ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏ ᴍᴀʟғᴏʏ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
Draco lifts his head up, shooting a glance towards his left to the witch staring shamelessly at him, his pale eyes settling on her, grunting irritably,
"Do you ever mind your own business?"
Oonagh pondered silently, tuc...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧✧✧✧✧
"𝕴 cannot believe i'm back here again"
Oonagh's grin was brilliant, a sharp contrast to Draco's wrinkled up nose. She rocks up, presses a chaste kiss to his cheek, laughing at the side eye he gives her,
"Oh, come on, Mr Grumpiest of all the Grumps"
At their sides, her pinky grazes against his, and Draco interlocks them far more confidently than it had been the first time they had done it here. Outside of Brian's Irish pub. Where they had spent their Christmas Eve rendezvous, admittedly the best they'd each had in a long time.
Like the last time, jigs, hornpipes and slip jigs floated into their ears from the local band inside, something that strangely fizzes an excitement in Draco's stomach. Not because he's developed a passion for older men with beer bellies, fiddles, accordions and banjos playing Traditional Irish folk music. But because he knows this is the place Oonagh shines the brightest, where she belongs, where her people are.
That didn't mean he could let her know it though, he has a reputation to uphold. So, he bites back his smile, keeps his pace steady and calm as she eagerly tugs him through the door and into the wild chaos. The facade of his doesn't last all that much longer, though, when immediately Oonagh's outrageously blue eyes shine with happiness. A blissful happiness that brings an easy smile out of him.
He quickly looks away when she starts to turn her head, her swaying up into his side a definite sign that she clocked onto his staring. He's become such a sappy git for her.
"Drink?" Oonagh questions, eyeing the bar that's getting more crowded by the minute. It's better to get in there than waiting. The queue for an Irish bar only lengthens, never shortens.
Draco nods, following her lead. Disapproving grumbles sound from him when he spies the awful yellow purse of hers making an appearance, reaching out and snatching it from her hand, leaving her to shoot him a puzzled look. All comes to light soon, however, when in replacement, opulent and refined, his black wallet falls into her hand. Free to spend however much she likes.
He stands quietly behind her while she steps up to the front, right in front of a man that's not old, friendly Brian at all. Much younger, he is, no more than two years older than them, and what many girls would be drooling at the mouth for. Typical tall, dark and handsome. Rocking a voluminous, untamed, greasy mane that gives off rebellious connotations, only strengthened by the smirk dangling at his pouty lips when he sees that Oonagh's next in his queue.
"What can I get for you, beautiful? Your three wishes are my mine to grant" He questions, leaning against the bar handsomely.
Oh, hell no.
Behind her, Oonagh feels Draco's mood shift, feels him embody that dark and sinful reputation he's built for himself. Calmly, with her gaze set straightforward, she affirms,
