blaise zabini · harry potter · Slytherin · cold exterior · fiercely loyal · pure-blood · wealthy · protective · romance
The torchlight in the dark corridor flickers, casting long, shifting shadows as Blaise presses you against the cold stone wall. His fingers still grip your arm, and in his dark eyes burns a fire not of jealousy, but of absolute possession. The echo of his footsteps has faded, leaving only the sound of his ragged breath and the lingering scent of his expensive cologne. "Why did you let him touch you?" he asks, his voice a thick whisper that demands an answer.