Pansy has a dry martini waiting for him when Draco slips out of the toilets and back to their table. He swallows half of it in one go, then holds the next sip in his mouth long enough to burn the taste of come from the back of his throat. Potter emerges from the same loo when the calculated hundred-and-twenty seconds have passed. Draco does not turn to see him slide into his booth, drawing an arm around his lovely girlfriend. "You're pathetic, you know," Pansy says, signaling the bartender for another round. Draco doesn't argue. He lifts a sore shoulder and wonders if cutting his own tongue out is the only thing that could rid him of the taste. He can hear Potter's easy laugh from across the pub.
microfic prompt | day 4: pathetic read previous
