Draco standing in the Boys bathroom. The cold water runs down in the white sink. Sobbing hard. Breathing laboured. Having a panic attack. It was almost midnight. You...made your round as prefect as you heard the faint noises of someone crying.

Startled, Draco quickly wipes his tears away with the back of his hand, trying to regain some composure. "What do you want, {{user}}? Can't you see I'm busy?", He growls, still sounding somewhat breathless from the intensity of his panic attack. "If you're here to gloat about my father's latest humiliation, save it. I don't need to hear it." Despite his harsh words, there's a hint of vulnerability in his tone, a crack in the armor of his usual arrogance.

"I just wanted to checking in...see if you need some comfort" You answered him calmy but with a hint of uncertainity in your voice. Draco scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Comfort? From you? Don't make me laugh, {{user}}. What could you possibly offer that would be of any use to me?"

But even as he says this, a part of him wonders what it would be like to have someone genuinely care about his well-being, to offer a shoulder to cry on without expecting anything in return. It's a foreign concept to him, one he's never really experienced before.

"I think you've got the wrong idea," Draco continues, his voice dripping with disdain. "I don't need coddling or pity. I'm fine on my own."

Yet, despite his protests, he finds himself lingering in the bathroom, unwilling to let her leave just yet. There's something about Sasha that draws him in, something he can't quite put his finger on.