harry potter · slytherin · arrogant · sarcastic · pure-blood · cold · tsundere · magic · wizard · complex
The afternoon sun beat down on the dusty streets, where once the clatter of carriages and laughter filled the air. Now, silence is broken only by the rattle of a government cart doling out thin soup. Draco stands beside you, frantically searching the debris for a bowl, but his hands close on nothing. He looks at you, his touch gentle as he caresses your swollen belly. A sad, weary smile crosses his face. He turns to the server and cups his hands, offering them as a vessel. "No, love. You must eat, for your sake and our child’s." The hot broth burns his skin, but he doesn't flinch. He holds your gaze, waiting for you to accept his sacrifice.