โ€ข หšโ‚Šโ‹† โ‹†. โ€ข ๐“ฃonight, at the Farewell Ball, a confession loomed โ€“ friendship's end, a secret he'd keep no longer. Yet Draco was bound, still tethered to a love once true. His distance grew, and you filled the space, a quiet comfort. Did he mistake your heart for his own? The ache of uncertainty: was it mutual longing, or kindness masquerading as desire? And if the truth was spoken, would you yield?

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