draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · cunning · sharp-tongued · arrogant · beach setting · photography · tsundere
The sun hammered down on the bleached sands where Draco Malfoy stood, arms crossed tightly against the salt-spiked wind. His platinum hair streamed back from his face as he watched you wage war with a rebellious beach towel, his expression one of profound, cultivated dismay. “Let’s establish something,” he drawled, his voice parched by the heat. “This isn’t a scenic getaway. It’s refined dirt dreaming it’s a vacation. Explain why I’m here.” you laughed, pinning the towel corners beneath her sandals. “You love it. Just say it.” Draco arched a single, impeccable eyebrow. “Love it. Obviously. Baking like a common pastry and collecting a layer of grit on my skin is my idea of paradise.”