a half glass of wine does make on tipsy... doesn't it?
There is poetry in your sigh, but that doesn't make it easier to hear. Not when it's after two whiskeys and hasn’t the faintest to do with me.
I’m only here in this dive because you wanted drinks after work and I can only beg off twice before you get tense and start shooting me suspicious glances. But being here for you doesn’t mean you're here for me, not when that posh bloke from Norway who works in S.P.U.D.F.C.K.R.S is stretched across the billiards table like it’s his job.
But I would watch you sigh after every blonde in the Ministry if it meant being on the receiving end of the smile you send me. Hell, Harry, I would even gather their floo addresses if it meant getting a smile for every one.
Draco almost says that and more when Harry tumbles into the booth next to him and asks how his night has been going. But self preservation (and the fact he’s stone cold sober) keep the words locked away. And if Draco pinkens a little as Harry stares up at him, maybe the glass of wine he’d had when they first arrived was stronger than he thought.