i'm half crazy... all for the love of you ♡
draco x weasley oc fic
folklore by taylor swift inspired
"And you can aim for my heart, go for blood... But you would still miss me in your bones."
Following the horrific Battle of Hogwarts, the unexpect...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
London
I started every day the same way.
A ritual. A tradition. A habit. A pattern. A routine.
After Norway, I had caution tape surrounding my brain, and routines were the only way I accomplished anything.
I woke up precisely at five every morning- my alarm blasted the same high pitch ring that forced my body to jolt wake from whatever nightmare I was trying to escape from.
It took me ten minutes to get dressed, brush my teeth, wash my face, and head to the hotel gym for a quick workout.
By six-thirty, I was back in my hotel room and in the scolding hot shower- an extended ten minutes if I felt more pressure and needed to release some extra stress. And nearly everyday, after I have spilled myself all over my palm, rutting into my own grip, I finish off by blasting ice cold water.
And at seven forty-five, I was dressed and ready to tackle my impossibly busy schedule. I usually had a few minutes to decompress. Check my phone for nonwork-related things. Wait for the room service to bring the breakfast my assistant ordered every morning.
It took a while to revamp, as the Malfoy name was tarnished by the product my father conducted, but despite it all... I was nice to the people I employed. Overly nice.
Once a month, I would have dinner with two of my agents. It was a casual affair. It wasn't anything too fancy or complicated. We found a restaurant that was in business of making food that everyone enjoyed and that's where I would meet them.
It just so happened that I bought the building two years ago when a northern London merger occurred with my company and another.
Today was different. It was dark in the bar. It wasn't as if it the lighting needed fixing, it just seemed earrie. It was raining outside and the spring end was cold this year.
It was typical London, nonetheless. And this was a typical day. The typical routine I had to keep myself grounded was almost ending.
But then... at the end of the restaurant edge, towards the bar, with a slight turn of my head, I saw glimpse of bright red hair.
Weasley red. The best and worst shade of red. The most dominant wavelength of color. The one color I wouldn't dare ever touch again. The color none of the late night flings could ever be. But also, the color I saw when shamelessly I indulged myself in a rutting early morning shower fantasy.
A situation like this hadn't happened in a long time... it was the sole reason why I stopped drinking, doing recreational drugs and essentially using magic.
