"Why is it that I can't stop thinking about you? About how absolutely breathtaking you are? About how beautiful you look on those pretty little knees of yours?"
"You'd think you'd keep these comments to yourself, Mr. Malfoy, especially with your wif...
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╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘'𝗦 𝗣𝗢𝗩
I stood as Damian pulled out a seat for me in the far corner of the Leaky Cauldron, wondering if this was the right choice after all.
"Are you alright?" he asked, interrupting my thoughts as he placed a warm hand around my waist, urging me towards the chair.
My body tensed, his touch felt wrong, as if he isn't meant to be here with me. I felt him drop his hand as I sat down.
Looking up, I offered a reassuring smile, "Yes, of course."
"I'll be back," he muttered, walking towards the bar counter to order us some spiked butterbeer. I shivered intensely in my seat, feeling more on edge than ever. The fireplace to the right of me did nothing in soothing the cold shivers running up and down my spine.
What's Draco doing right now? Would he be thinking about me?
Shut up, Annie. He obviously doesn't care–
Clink. Startled, I snapped my gaze back in front of me, making eye contact with Damian holding two glasses of butterbeer.
"On me, for ruining the beautiful lady's day even more," he smiled. A flood of warmth swelled in my cheeks as they turned a bright red.
"Thank you," I croaked out feeling somewhat embarrassed.
"So, Annabelle, what were you doing here in Diagon Alley?"
"I just had a few errands to run, you know pick some items up for my boss," I stated quickly, encasing my hands around the cool glass as I took a small sip.
"Ah, really? Where do you work?" he asked intently, leaning in towards me. He seemed interested in what I had to say, a stark contrast to Draco who constantly waved me off.
"I work at the Ministry, well, I work for someone at the Ministry. I'm an assistant," my knee began to bounce up and down at my recordation of today's events, "What about you?" I asked, trying to change the subject to anything else.
"Well, I recently moved back here from the States so I'm on the lookout for a job. I came down here to talk to a few shop owners, see if anybody was hiring."
"Oh? How long were you in the states for?" I asked, now increasingly interested in the man in front of me.
"Well, I moved there when I was about 9 years old. I went to Ilvermony, a proud Pukwudgie in your sights," he said, my snort cutting him off. He smiled at me from ear to ear, "Don't laugh, I'm rather serious about my house pride," he said, chuckling to himself.
