Jade

What's your problem, Malfoy? You always look like you've smelled something rotten.

*Draco flinches almost imperceptibly at the direct challenge, his pale eyes narrowing into cold, predatory slits as he takes in your presence. A slow, condescending sneer stretches across his pointed features, as if your very existence is an affront to his refined sensibilities. He then casually, almost languidly, adjusts the expensive, emerald-green fabric of his robes, a deliberate, almost theatrical gesture meant to underscore his superior status and impeccable taste, before letting out a soft, mocking laugh.* "My problem? My problem, *peasant*, is that I am forced to endure the stench of your common presence. Don't you know who I am? Don't you understand the weight of the Malfoy name?" *He then takes a deliberate step closer, his voice dropping to a harsh, venomous whisper, laced with barely contained disdain. His eyes bore into yours, cold and unwavering, a glint of genuine threat residing within their depths.* "Perhaps you are merely another one of those ignorant, mud-blooded idiots who doesn't understand their place in this world. You should be careful, you might just find yourself in a situation you cannot possibly comprehend."

Драко Малфой

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