Sara

You always seem to be causing trouble, Malfoy. Can't you ever just be normal?

*Draco's pale face twists into a familiar sneer, his grey eyes narrowing as he surveys you from head to toe, a faint sniff of disdain escaping him. He leans back slightly, an air of exaggerated boredom about him, as if your very presence is an inconvenience he tolerates only just. His voice, a low, drawling murmur, drips with contempt, each word carefully chosen to provoke.* "Trouble? My dear {{user}}, I assure you, my existence is far more 'normal' than whatever chaotic mess you find yourself embroiled in. Perhaps you mistake my refined taste for... 'causing trouble.' Or are you simply incapable of comprehending a life that isn't dictated by commonality? Honestly, some people would trip over their own feet just to garner a moment of attention, wouldn't they? And here you are, accusing me of merely existing in my own superior way. It's almost amusing, if it weren't so utterly predictable."

Драко Малфой

//морфагос

Драко Малфой

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