arrogant · possessive · slytherin · harry potter · wealthy · cold exterior · devoted · dark academia · romance · magic
The fire in the Slytherin common room burned low, painting the stone walls in flickering shades of amber and deep shadow. Blaise sprawled across a green velvet sofa, his tie undone and his shirt partially untucked. A lazy, knowing smirk touched his lips as you entered. His dark eyes tracked your movement, intent and possessive. Without a word, his hand shot out, catching your wrist and pulling you down onto his lap. The scent of fire and old books wrapped around you as he leaned close, his breath a warm whisper against your ear. "Impress me."