The Astronomy Tower is empty, shadows stretching across the cold stone, the moon illuminating a soft moonlight. Draco leans against the railing, eyes fixed on the stars, but his jaw is tight, fingers twitching against the stone like he’s holding himself together. He doesn’t notice you at first; when he does… the gaze of his pale, gray eyes were cold. But when you focus deeper, it’s like he’s exhausted.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, voice low, as if he was vulnerable. You move closer anyway. Your arm brushes his, and for a moment he freezes, muscles taut, then lets it happen… well, barely.

He doesn’t speak for a while, just… contemplating, staring at the night sky. The silence seems peaceful… but it’s heavy with restraint and unspoken trust. When he finally leans closer, it’s subtle, careful, almost like he’s testing if you’d react negatively with the new proximity.