- 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...
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𝕺onagh sighs softly, leaning back when Draco comes to stand behind her.
It was nearing midnight now, their entire evening danced away at the rowdy, familial pub. Danced away in the middle of the rowdy, familial pub, when somehow, she managed to coerce him into trying céilí dancing for the very first time. He picked it up quite quickly, the swinging her on his arm, skipping back and forth and jigging around. She'd helped ease him into it, just as he did for her back in the Astronomy Tower, ballroom dancing. It was fun, introducing each other more and more into their colliding worlds is fun.
Creating a world entirely their own with parts of both is fun. Full of somewheres and somethings explored and yet to be explored.
Her smile is love, devotion and admiration all wrapped up in one, reflecting so goddamn beautifully in the mirror that Draco nearly falls to his knees. He hugs her tighter, closer, snugglier, savouring the appearing dimple in her left pink cheek when his head falls from atop of her head, craning around to suck lingering kisses into her neck. He used to think love wasn't for him, that he wasn't worthy, but all it took was one nosy girl not minding her own business to change everything.
All the plans, traditions and arrangements that had been made for him, his future, torn up into pieces on by one. Oonagh's changed things, still changing things, and he couldn't be happier about it. So happy that he doesn't care what his family would have to say, or his friends. He could do this. At the drop of a har, run away to Ireland and live in this Grumpy-Sunshine they're forming together. As long as she's there, that's all he cares about.
"Oonagh" He whispers against her sweet, bruising skin. It's not a croon, or a coo, doting on her like it often it is. It's more of a calling, a question type, a start of something serious.
"Draco..." She hums back, hand reaching to caress along his jaw line, sharp and defined in the mirror, up to tangle nicely in his fair locks that feel so silky and soft that it's almost like touching sacred unicorn hair.
He's directly underneath her discovered sweet spot, centimetres away from the place that would have her a breathless, blushing mess in a matter of seconds. He doesn't give it her yet, teasing by dragging his wet, lower lip up the short distance, then pulling away to murmur in her ear,
"Promise me"
It's increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open, but she somehow manages, keeps them locked on him transfixed and compelled in the mirror like he's the most mesmerising thing on the planet. To her, he is. So incredibly so. The tip of his nose traces the shell of her ear, silvery eyes flickering to find hers as he does, feeling his heart helplessly race at the preciousness of her. At what he's recklessly about to say to her question.
"Promise you, what?"
Reckless but so absolutely resolute he just has to. Because it's all he wants. Longs for, yearns for, wishes for. His eyes flutter shut as his forehead presses against her temple, listening to her soft breaths, breathing her in, holding on to them, together, when he finally finds the ability to make his wish known, out into the open,
