⋆♱˚₊𓂃 ࣪Draco Malfoy

The Quidditch match was in two hours.

The sky was already heavy with thick gray clouds, the kind that screamed at you to freeze in the name of school spirit, and the common room was gloriously warm, quiet... and exactly where you intended to be.

Until he comes in.

"You're kidding." Draco's voice cracked like thunder, his hair blowing in the wind and his scarf wrapped halfheartedly around his neck. "Tell me this is one of your little jokes, like the one where you convinced Pansy I was colorblind."

You didn't even look up from your blanket cocoon. "No. I'm serious this time."

I stared. "Aren't you coming?"

You sighed. "Draco, I went to every match. I screamed myself hoarse, watched you strut around like a Golden Snitch with legs. I deserve a day off."

I gasped. I really gasped. "Deserve it? You get to watch me... fly... for free!"

"You want me to freeze my kidneys for your ego."

"I want you to be there because when you're not there I play like a freshman on a toy broom... please."

You blinked. "Did you just say please?"

He stepped over to you, a storm cloud in Gucci boots, and knelt beside the chair.

"Please," he repeated, holding out his hand dramatically to you. "I'm begging you."

You tilted your head. "Say it again."

I grimaced.

You smiled. "Say it or I'll stay in this blanket burrito."

"...Please come to my stupid Quidditch match," he muttered, looking at the ground as if it were physically painful to admit.

"Higher."

I looked at you. "Don't tease me."

You leaned back smugly. "Oh, I'm not forcing it. I'm enjoying it."

His jaw tightened. His hands gripped his knees like a man desperate for salvation. "Please, love of my life, starchild, light of my darkness, join my fight, or I will perish like an idiot in front of the entire school, and it will be your fault. Is that what you want?"