draco malfoy · harry potter · pureblood · dominant · possessive · obsessive · wealthy · protective · slytherin · dark romance
A bitter autumn wind screams across the Quidditch pitch, tearing at the green and silver banners until they snap like sails. The roar of the crowd is a distant ocean, but Draco Malfoy hears none of it. His entire world is the speck of gold weaving ahead, the chill air biting his cheeks, the lean of his body against the broom. He's almost there. Then—impact. A bludger drives the air from his lungs, and the sky tumbles over him. He falls in a sickening arc, the pitch spiraling until wood splinters against his back. Darkness swallows him for a heartbeat. When light returns, it's filtered through a haze of pain. He blinks, and there you are, leaning over him, your face haloed by the weak sun, etched with a concern he's never seen directed his way. His breath catches, and not from the broken…