A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Come to think of it, Draco didn't remember anything after breakfast. Nor did he remember coming to the Tower to sleep.

He sits up, alarmed.

And then he bolts out of his room, the heated plate of food long forgotten.

*******

"You can't just...not like Chocolate Frogs!"

"I can, and I do. They're revolting."

Ron gasps and turns to him, the large branch in his hands swaying side to side. "Take that back."

"I will not," Blaise laughs.

He's sitting on a chair he summoned, watching Ron manually lift the heavy branches with his bare hands. He had also taken off his shirt a little while ago due to the amount of humidity inside the greenhouse.

Blaise is most definitely enjoying the show.

"You're going to drop that branch if you keep getting distracted."

"As long as you're here, I am distracted."

"Then I should leave?"

"Then I'm not motivated," Ron grins smugly.

The Slytherin rolls his eyes.

"Are you going to help," Ron pants, looking back at him. "Or just...enjoy the view? You know we have a deadline for this, right?"

"I'm not cut out for hard labor," Blaise drawls, drawing his tongue against his bottom lip when Ron throws the branch and his back muscles ripple. "Sadly."

"You'll do anything and everything else before you put those pretty little hands to work."

"Are you calling me delicate?"

"Oh, no, Sir. No," Ron grunts as he tosses another branch. "The word I'm thinking of is actually dainty."

"Have you no manners," Blaise throws a small pebble at him, trying very hard to hide his grin when Ron dodges it and laughs.

"I have no need to be well-mannered. I speak only the truth. You are dainty and beautiful and everything else royal."

"Must you try so hard to win my favor?"

"I don't need to try," Ron smirks over his sweaty, delicious shoulder and Blaise's mouth runs dry. "I've already won it."

Blaise rolls his eyes, but he secretly loves the banter with Ron. He lives in it.

He's never had many suitors, and the ones he has had have been either too plain, or too feminine. The Slytherin shudders at his reverie of walking the gardens and having pure-blood girls touch him.

Ron, however. There's something about him. Something that draws Blaise in, something that he hasn't ever seen in anyone. Ron is just so comfortable with his masculinity, so comfortable in his skin that makes whatever he does seem envious. He does everything with so much confidence, it's disgustingly attractive.