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𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘 is describable upon many words, condescending, egotistical and dispassionate towards any relationship he has. Well atleast that's what Angelina thought of him, she wasn't wrong, he was a bully who found utter pleasure from being mercenary to others. As well, as being a total upstart snob.
The truth is, she didn't always think of an 'egotistical prick' when she thought of him, they'd actually known eachother since they where born with there parents being rarely close friends.
Every Christmas Eve,the Malfoy's would spend it at the DeLuca Manor, where they'd dine and play games with the children for hours on end. On New Year's Eve, the DeLucas would attend the Malfoy's famous, and traditional parties were other wealthy, pure blood families repleted at as well.
On some nights,Draco would just lay in his bed silently, he could feel his body nearly overheating from the substantial pressure deeply buried into his chest, almost to the point where it was weighing him down into the darkness that swallowed him whole,shortly till the point were he felt comfort in it. Fortunately, Draco was always aware the times where he could feel himself sinking to far deep, even though he felt peculiar comfort in decaying in his own mind, he never got passed the point where he couldn't pull himself out of it. He did have his moments where he felt the uppercut on panic of doing so, so his solution was thinking back to the memories him and Angelina shared, before everything changed.
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It was the day before the year of 1991, New Year's Eve. Draco took a glimpse out the window, he could only imagine stepping out side to feel the bitter, bleak air whack his bare face, and pretend to get lost in the thin layered mist, just for the fun of it.
But he unfortunately could not, he was dinning at his parents classic, historical news years party. Fortunately, he was accompanied by the pleasant Angelina DeLuca herself. They had snuck away from the populous, and extensive ballroom, the guests occupied in, to Dracos bedroom.
Dracos bedroom was far beyond tiresome, as one wall was filled with books that library's could only beg for, he even had a classical black piano he had gotten for his seventh birthday. Draco was sitting on his bed fidgeting with the pages of a book he must have been currently reading. Angelina soon sat beside him and asked him what it was.
"Romeo and Juliet, a classic" he stated still playing with the edges of the pages.
"What's it about?" She questioned him, with her head budging in closer to look not realising she had almost head butted him,he rolled his eyes before grinning.
"For a starters it's Shakespeare..." He began to say, but was soon cut of as he took a glimpse at her, his mouth suddenly went dry as he looked at her,when was she so beautiful? He thought to himself, this was strange for him, he had never pictured her like this before, he hadn't even felt this strange, gut turning feeling before either.
"Carry on, div" Ange spoke, flicking his shoulder gently before smiling and looking at the book that rested in his hands.
'Angie'
short for Angelina. She only let her friends call her that. However, Draco only seemed to call her
'Ange'
and only Draco.Weirdly, there was something exceptionally special about it.
"Oh well it's basically a tragic love story where the two main characters, Romeo and Juliet, are supposed to be sworn enemies but fall in love. Due to their families' ongoing conflict, they cannot be together, so they kill themselves because they cannot cope with being separated from one another." He replied to her, before shutting the book and placing it behind him on the bed he rested at.
"Woah, that's...gut wrenching"
He laughed lightly before nodding, "your not wrong" he spoke, as she gave him a pleasant half smile.
"Hey you shouldn't be laughing, just incase you fall in love with a mud blood" she facetiously declared with a smug grin when she saw Dracos face drop.
"Excuse me, but if anyone is as foolish to do so, it would be you!" He fixed, with a self-satisfied smirk, before patting her shoulder while he stood up off his bed.
He took a few steps before turning around as he had not heard anything from her yet, "speechless, DeLuca?" He pensioned, egotistically while she just snickered at him.
Suddenly, Draco had gotten that feeling once more, as he watched. The feeling felt unknowing an uncertain because he didn't even know himself, sincerely because he'd never felt this way for anyone ever before.
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To this day, a lot had changed. Draco didn't know what happened to that feeling, some moments it felt like it had been perished and only replaced with bitterness and repulse, but then he wondered why his eyes followed her into every room, it's a possibility that it could just be buried deep within him, hopefully so deep that it would soon sink and drown, horrifyingly. But, deep down he knew he could never find a way to stop sensitivity, no matter how hard he tried.
