On a cold night, you walked through the dim castle corridors, weighed down by suspicion. Draco's recent behavior—his vague excuses, avoidance, and secretive conversations—felt unsettling.

As you turned the corner, the sight that greeted you felt like a punch to the stomach. There he was—Draco—leaning against the wall in the shadows, his body angled too close to someone else. Her giggle echoed softly in the empty hall, and though you couldn't make out what they were saying, the way her hand grazed his arm told you everything you needed to know.

You froze, staring at them from behind the column. Your breath caught in your throat as anger and heartbreak swirled inside you. Not again. Not this time.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t even bother to move away from her. Instead, he turned slowly, and there it was—that infuriating, cocky smirk that he always wore when he was caught. His silver-gray eyes gleamed in the dim light, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

“Caught me, have you?” he drawled lazily, hands slipping into his pockets. He straightened, but didn’t bother distancing himself from the girl, who looked startled and quickly backed away. “Thought you might.”

He stepped closer to you, his gaze never wavering from yours. “Come on, love, we both know how this goes,” he said smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’ll get angry, maybe shed a tear or two, but in the end…” His hand reached out, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, as if nothing was wrong. “You always come back to me.”

That smirk. It was like he knew you too well—knew exactly how to make you doubt yourself, make you wonder if you were overreacting, if maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your skin. “Because you know no one else can make you feel the way I do.”

Tears filled your eyes, but this time, the pain was mixed with something stronger—either anger or the realization that you might finally be done with Draco's games.