Draco Malfoy (![]() ![]() @ 2008-06-25 23:16:00 |
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Current music: | white rose movement - london's mine |
Who: Draco Malfoy and Theo Nott
Where: Regent's Park, London
When: 25 June, night
What: An overdue meeting of sorts, will likely contain melodrama, angst, woe, and possible bitch slapping? Or not.
Rating: TBR; at least PG-13 for language and other intense content?
Status: Closed; in progress
Draco wasn't sure whether he was allowed to be smoking as he stood on the edge of the grass circling a great grey water fountain, but it was getting late and the only people around were lovers on evening walks; the park wardens were few and far between - likely snoozing in their plasticky little huts by the black iron gates.
He watched water bounce off of itself, from the rim of the stone bowls dripping down into the murky basins. It sounded like rain and it reflected the harsh circle of the moon poking through the trees around him, criss-crossing his pale features with milky white light. He glanced around the grassy field, trying to catch a glimpse of a dark, thin figure without looking too sneaky or worse - too apathetic. Because, if anything, he was not apathetic. Not this time. Not about this.
Flicking his lighter on and off, he blew on the end of his cigarette and watched the little orange end spark before dulling once again. His tongue tasted like sandpaper and his head spun just the way he liked it, but there was another brand of sickness there that he just couldn't seem to shake off. Perhaps when Theodore arrived, it would disappear.