Malfoy | [Draco Malfoy x Reader]

F O U R T Y - T W O

"Have I told you about the tension of opposites?" He said huskily, his face deeply buried in the waves of her hair. She frowned, and flopped onto her naked stomach to stare at him as he grazed her bare skin with his fingertips and lips. She shivered discreetly, and took his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers.

The...tension of opposites?

He chuckled at her befuddled expression, and rested his chin on her knuckles, "Life is a series of pulls, back and forth, back and forth, forward and back." He paused to place a chaste kiss on her already swollen lips, "You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn't. You take certain things for granted, even when you...when you know you should never take anything for granted." He inhaled a deep breath, and stared at her through hooded lids, his moss green eyes vulnerable, "A tension of opposites, like a pull of a rubber band. And, most of us live somewhere in the middle."

"Sounds like a wrestling match." She noted somberly, her giggle hollow.

Gently, he began tracing her jawline, before moving further southwards to her chest, "A wrestling match..." He repeated with a hearty laugh, butterflies erupted inside her belly, "Yes. Yes, you could describe it that way." There was a heaved sigh."So..." She trailed off softly, dragging out the 'o'-sound, "which side wins the battle?" She asked, her hand still interlocked with his free one.

"Which side wins?" He grinned at her from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling in the corners. He curled a strand of her soft hair around his forefinger, then, he bit his lower lip, concealing his slightly crooked teeth through squishy pink flesh and velvety skin.

He answered at once, his voice unwavering, his reply rung true, because it was the truth: "Love." He said. "Love always wins."

"That is awfully cheesy, Stefan."

"If you say so, Trudy. But, I don't believe in the impossible. I don't believe in science and research and facts. I don't believe that miracles can't happen, that dreams cannot come true...I don't believe in never." He countered, suddenly flipping her over so she was beneath him, his thighs on either side of her, caging her in, holding her prisoner. He heard the sound of her breath hitching and he smirked in satisfaction. "I don't believe in always," she refuted, and he seized the opportunity to grab both her wrists and pin it above her head.

Her eyes widened.

"Well, opposites attract." He stated.

"Never." She raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Always!" He finished, smiling brightly and she playfully whacked him on the back of his head. After that, there wasn't much -...talking.

-

Love, to (Y/N) (Y/L/N), was like the thrill of Quidditch, a whirlwind of emotions that swept you up in its vortex, it left you breathless, and bewitched and utterly enchanted. It was the rush of adrenaline as you soared through the skies, your heart pounding in your chest, like a thousand galloping Thestrals.

Just as the Golden Snitch seemed to evade capture, love tantalized, and teased, a fleeting glimpse of joy that vanished, only to reappear in unexpected moments.

Like the Quaffle, love was a prize worth fighting and risking for, a treasure to be cherished and protected. And, just as the Beaters' bats cracked and thundered, love's passion could be fierce, and all-consuming, it left scars that lingered long after the match was over. Yet, like the Seeker's triumph cry, love's joy was a sound that echoed through eternity, a victory that made all risks and bruises - worthwhile...