"You would have tried to stop me," Draco said plaintively. "I didn't—don't," he sighed and corrected himself again, "didn't want to be stopped. Last night was different. It wasn't planned. I'd been drinking." For two days straight with next to no sleep. "It shouldn't have happened. Not like that," he ended on a pained whisper.
Draco closed his eyes when Blaise flung his arm across his torso, content with the weight of it there. Under different circumstances, it might have made him a little uncomfortable, but now the contact was welcomed. "Tired of being alone," he whispered, so low that Blaise may not have heard it.
Draco glanced over at his friend. It was pretty obvious what he was trying to do, and he couldn't really fault Blaise for it. He really was grateful to have him as a friend. He just didn't see a point in it. He didn't have any truly happy memories to draw upon to make a Patronus. If it would help ease his mind, though, he didn't see the harm in humoring Blaise.