Chapter Text
earl grey is for early mornings. add cream if it’s a cold day to make it a london fog, add sugar if you’re feeling down. black tea is for studying. citrus is for sun, coco is for frost, and cider is for rain. but no matter what hot drink filled it, blaise’s white teacup always wound up with a red lipstick smudge.
“gross,” said pansy, shoving it back at him. “way too strong.”
he breathed a laugh through his nose and shifted under her legs, adjusting his textbook. they sat on the deep green couch in slytherin’s common room. shadows danced across the walls as the black lake pressed against smooth glass, and students trickled in and out quietly.
“draco should be here in…” pansy glanced down at her silver watch, “negative six minutes. merlin’s tits, why is he never around anymore?”
she glanced at blaise, expression tight. neither of them wanted the answer.
a year ago, he would have been draped across the both of them, gelled hair falling out of place, cologne just a smidge too strong, hand dramatically flung over his forehead as he whined about potter. one would think his slough of potter-related complaints might run dry, but to blaise’s dismay and pansy’s amusement, it never did.
cold crawled into all of their bones the summer after fifth year, though, when murders hit the papers and the dark mark spread like a virus. scared whispers swirled through the slytherins, and blaise got the sense that most of them didn’t know what side their own parents were on. it was a game of survival the kids didn’t know how to play. as for draco, he wouldn’t hold eye contact for more than a moment, wouldn’t laugh, would barely talk, and his wardrobe contained exclusively long sleeves.
he and pansy still had each other, though. if the only warmth left was in her hands, he’d be content to hold them.
“well,” she said, “if draco’s not here, you’ll have to play with my hair.”
“sure,” he said, shrugging and shutting his textbook. it was a miracle he’d made it this far with good marks what with the constant attention his friends demanded.
it was courser than he expected, but still soft. he trailed his fingers near her forehead, behind her ear, toward the nape of her neck, hitting cold air where her bob ended and then moving back again, finding a comfortable rhythm. “mm?” he asked.
“yes,” she sighed. “sheesh, if i’d known you were this good with your hands, i woulda had you step in for draco a long time ago.” she waggled her eyebrows at him. he smiled and shook his head, and she pressed into his side.
they stayed like that as shadows swallowed every surface in the room, sparing only their couch illuminated softly by a lamp.
“bedtime,” he said gently, and she reluctantly pulled herself up.
“goodnight, blaise.” she said, taking one last sip from his tea which had gone cold and wrinkling her nose.
“goodnight pansy,” he replied.