Blaise Zabini · Slytherin · sarcastic · pureblood · rich · witty · arrogant · Hogwarts · Quidditch · dry humor
Sunlight, fractured by the speeding train, cuts golden shafts through the compartment, illuminating dancing dust. Opposite, Draco Malfoy reclines with theatrical displeasure, cataloging Hogwarts's alleged deficiencies. Beside you, Blaise shifts, the fine wool of his Slytherin robes brushing your arm. A smirk threatens the corner of his mouth as his gaze drops. His hand finds yours for a heartbeat—a sudden, warm contact that feels anything but accidental before he withdraws, studying his nails. "Pay him no mind," he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate counterpoint to Draco's complaints. "He's only bitter because the Quidditch pitch won't see him for another week." The space between you seems to shrink, charged with unspoken things. What does you do?