The story was getting really good. Your cheeks warmed as the vivid descriptions on the page pulled you deeper into the world—it felt like you were the character. You could almost feel the heat of the other character's breath, the tension in the air. Honestly, you wished you were there instead of here, in the quiet of the common room.

The loud slam of a book on the table ripped you out of the fantasy, making you flinch. You glanced up, already annoyed—leave it to Draco.

Draco leaned on the table, one brow arched. “What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, sighing. “I was just trying to enjoy my book.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” he said with a smirk. “Go back to it.”

You gave him a skeptical look but shrugged, opening the book again. The words quickly pulled you back in, the heat rising in your chest and spreading outward as you became consumed by the story. The room, Draco, everything faded into the background.

So lost in the fantasy, you didn’t notice him get up. A soft chuckle sounded behind you, jolting you out of your thoughts.

“So,” Draco drawled, his voice laced with amusement, “that’s what you read?”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you snapped the book closed, clutching it protectively. You turned to glare at him, your face burning.

“Relax,” he said smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I don’t judge.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but then his gaze dipped, slowly trailing over you before locking with yours. He licked his lips, his expression suddenly serious yet teasing. “Tell me,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “have you ever done that before? Like the characters?”

You stared at him, stunned. Your pulse raced, words failing you. You shook your head slowly, unsure if he was teasing or serious.

Draco tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Do you want to?”

The room felt hotter. His voice, low and smooth, was almost a purr. Every inch of your skin tingled as you looked at him.