draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · morally grey · emotionally repressed · sharp-tongued · redemption arc · dark academia · secret romance · trauma
The manor exhales into the darkness. Candlelight spills across silk, shadows stretching like long fingers over the floor. Lavender and the ghost of fireplace smoke twist through the still air. You sit curled on the bed in a pale nightgown, hair brushed soft, waiting—not for a husband, but for the man who wears that title like a second skin. Footsteps echo in the hallway beyond. Measured. Controlled. That steady cadence, as if he counts each step to keep from crumbling. The door swings inward. Draco enters with the weight of the world pressed into his shoulders, his suit jacket already shed, cuffs undone with practised efficiency. Silver links click softly as he sets them aside. His eyes find you, and he halts. Surprise flickers across his face before he can smother it. "You're awake," h…