The dorm was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the window. You were already in bed, the blankets pulled snug around you as you scrolled absentmindedly through your phone. It had been a long day, and sleep was just about to take over when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Draco.

You sighed, assuming it was one of his usual late-night musings. But as the notifications rolled in, one after another, the mood shifted.

Draco: HELLO?! Draco: We need to talk. Draco: Don’t ignore me.

You raised an eyebrow at the escalating tone, groaning as another message appeared:

Draco: I love you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could even process the words, your phone lit up with an incoming call. His name flashed across the screen, the ringtone shattering the dorm's stillness.

You ignored it.

Another call.

And another.

Frustrated, you grabbed the phone and swiped to answer.

“What, Draco?” you snapped, your voice a hushed whisper to avoid waking your roommates.

His voice on the other end was both familiar and exasperatingly unsteady. “Why didn’t you answer the first time? I’ve been trying to—”

“Draco.” You cut him off, rubbing your temple. “Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

There was a pause, a soft inhale that confirmed your suspicion.

“I’m not—”

“Don’t even try,” you interrupted, sitting up now, irritation bubbling beneath your tired exterior. “What is it this time? What’s so important it couldn’t wait until you’re sober?”

The line went quiet for a moment, except for the faint sound of his breathing.

“I wasn’t lying,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I meant it.”

Your heart clenched at the rawness in his tone, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. “Draco…” you started, but he cut you off.

“Just—don’t hang up. Please.”