Everlasting (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Theatre Mess

Draco could not help but feel his eyes drift off to sleep the more this Hamlet person spoke. Every soliloquy performed was another hit to Draco as he felt his own head give in to him. There you sat beside him, in one of the finest and most expensive seats, grinning widely at the soppiness of Hamlet himself, as Draco forced his head to remain up.

Merlin, how much can you complain? Draco thought to himself, staring at the Hamlet actor as he weeped further and expressed his feelings longingly and dramatically. Even I complained less.

"Look, look," you whispered over to Draco, patting his thigh as he forced his eyes upwards.

Keeping his head propped up against his palm, he sat slouched in his seat, staring at the play before himself. Dear Melin - what had he gotten himself into? By associating himself with [F/n] Potter, falling in love with her, and now dating her ... and one day marrying her!? Absolutely not. With a sigh, he rubbed his face with his hands before sitting up. He thus cleared his throat, fixed his black blazer upon himself before searching around the theatre for amusement.

This muggle life was certainly very odd, and Draco could not help but glare at everyone. It was just a natural occurrence at this point; he had a resting bitch face already, especially towards muggles. He did, on the other hand, pride himself on associating himself with you. When you were seen in public, he would hold you by your waist or would take your hand. You, very similarly, felt very proud to be able to openly kiss him and call him yours.

Groaning, he could simply not find a single thing in this expensive theatre that suited his fancy. And yet, as he shifted in his seat, he heard the gentle rustle of packaging within his pocket. You were too ingrained in the play to hear or even care about the things he held in his pockets, however it gave Draco a splendid idea as he finally found something to entertain himself with. Slowly turning his head towards you, he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat again so that he could be closer to you, slithering his hand over to your thigh. He thus pressed his fingertips further into your thigh, causing you to turn to him with a confused expression, only to find him innocently smiling at you. You raised your eyebrow momentarily before turning back to watch the play.

Draco proceeded further. He continued to sit in his chair slouched, his long legs outstretched before himself on the floor in a careless manner with his suit, black trousers and black Oxford shoes. Yet, his hand remained steadily on your thigh, slowly pressing itself in further to the inner part of your thigh, brushing it closely.

"What are you doing?" You asked in a whisper, snapping at him.

"Nothing," he said, "watching the play."

"Don't even try it, Malfoy," you thus lifted his hand and threw it back over to his own thigh before turning back to the play.

He rolled his eyes. Yet, he was in Slytherin for a reason. These qualities became clear when he proved his slyness and cunning by sliding his hand over back to your thigh, slowly grazing it towards the inside of your thigh again.

"Draco," you whispered out threateningly.

"What?" He cried out quietly. "Can't I hold my girlfriend's thigh?"

"As if you'd ever get a girlfriend," you scoffed, turning back to the play, leaving Draco to smirk at you playfully.

He did not give up. With every moment that you grabbed his hand and pulled it out from the inner side of your thigh, he would slither it inside again, running it up and down your thigh slowly. And, finally, when you became so invested in the play and stopped pushing Draco's hand away, he took this perfect opportunity to slither it upwards under your dress (which you bought before attending the theatre, since your clothes had burned at the Burrow). Needless to say, you were not pleased with the boy when you realised where his hand was heading, and yet as much as you verbally protested, you could not bring yourself to push his hand away this time.