slytherin boys react

draco malfoy: showing up drunk at your door

there's a loud singular knock at the door, more like a thud. at first, you think it's a mistake, maybe something rattling outside. but then it comes again, heavier, more insistent. you hesitate before unlocking the door, half-expecting trouble. when it swings open, he's there, leaning against the doorframe, barely able to stand straight.

"why didn't you answer quicker?" he slurs, his voice thick and strained. he shifts his weight, trying to stand taller but failing miserably.

you say nothing, frozen in place as his gaze flickers up to meet yours, filled with a raw, unspoken emotion. his lips press together as if he's fighting himself, but the words slip out anyway. "i couldn't stop thinking about you," he mutters, stepping forward unsteadily, nearly tripping over his own feet. "it's always you. no matter what i do, no matter how hard i try to forget... it's driving me mad."

he reaches out, his hand takes ahold of your arm as if to anchor himself. he stumbles slightly and catches himself against the doorframe with his other hand. "why do you have to do this to me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, eyes searching your face desperately for an answer that neither of you might have.

you find yourself unable to look away. there's a vulnerability in his eyes, an open pleading that you've never seen before.

"please," he mutters, his voice hoarse, "say something, anything. just don't stand there like that." he's still holding onto your arm, his fingers digging lightly into your skin as though desperate for connection. his gaze flicks down to your lips, and for a moment, it seems like he's going to lean in.

"you're drunk," you say quietly, the words coming out without thought. you reach up and gently pry his hand off your arm, taking a small step back. "and you're not supposed to be here."

"i'm not drunk," he mutters, running a hand raggedly through his hair. "i'm just tipsy.." he mutters, sounding like he's trying to convince himself more than you. he takes a step closer, almost falling forward again. but this time, you reach out automatically, stabilizing him with a hand on his chest.

his eyes flicker down to where you're touching him, a mixture of relief and something else you can't quite read. he swallows thickly, his breath hitching as he looks back up at you.

"let me in," he says, his voice a plea. his hand comes up to cover yours, holding it in place against his chest. you can feel his heart beating, quick and erratic under your palm. concerned for him in such a state, you cave in and step aside to let him in.

he manages a stumbling step forward, almost tripping over his own feet again. you reach out to steady him, guiding him over to a chair before he can fall. he collapses onto it, his head falling forward into his hands.

he groans softly, his shoulders slumping forward in exhaustion. "i shouldn't have come here," he mutters, his words muffled by his hands. "i told myself i'd stay away, but you..." he trails off, his jaw clenching as he lifts his face to look at you again.

his eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail as if he's desperate to memorize it. "why do you make it so hard for me?" he slurs, leaning back against the chair. he scrubs a hand over his face, groaning again. "you have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

he looks up at you through his eyelashes, his expression a mix of frustration and sadness. "i'm trying so damn hard to stay away, but the more i try, the more i think about you," he mutters, running a hand through his hair again, messing it up further. "it's like you're a damn curse. every time i think i'm getting over you, something pulls me back."