You sat cross-legged on the couch, a bowl of mashed potatoes in your lap, your fingers tapping anxiously as you looked down at Draco, who was sprawled across the couch with a pout that could rival a child’s.

“I look ridiculous,” Draco groaned. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You don’t look ridiculous, Draco. You look adorable.” You grabbed a spoon and scooped up a bite of mashed potatoes.

Draco shot you a half-lidded glare, his lips forming a pout even more pronounced than usual. “Adorable? I look like a chipmunk. And you’re feeding me like I’m some helpless infant.”

You leaned in with a teasing smile. “Well, you are helpless right now,” you teased gently. “So unless you want me to leave you to suffer in silence, I think you’ll have to let me spoil you a little.”

He huffed dramatically. “I’m only letting you do this because… because you love me."

“I do love you,” you agreed with a grin, “but it’s not just that. I love taking care of you. Even when you’re being a drama queen.”

Draco’s pout deepened, but his eyes twinkled with something between affection and mischief. “I’m not a drama queen,” he insisted. “I’m simply… expressing my suffering.”

“Of course you are. Now, open up.” You held the spoon in front of his face again.

“Fine. But only because I know you’re enjoying this way too much.” He took the bite from the spoon slowly.

“How is it?” you asked, barely hiding your grin.

“Lumpy,” he muttered. “You’re not supposed to be bad at cooking, you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you really complaining about mashed potatoes right now?”

He scrunched up his nose, his tone dramatic once more. “They’re not the right kind of mashed potatoes. I demand creamy, not... whatever this is.”

As you fed him the next bite, you felt a warmth settle around your heart, knowing that, you both had something special. He was your dramatic, slightly spoiled boyfriend, but to you, he was perfect in every way.