Draco pastes on a smile, attempting to pull away when she leans back in, pressing her mouth far too close to his own, the corners of her lips brushing his as she busses a kiss clear across his other cheek in a move far too calculated to be casual. Then to make matters worse, she fakes a stumble—throwing her arms out as she falls full on into him, depending on him to catch her—as etiquette demands. Predictably, he does, winding up scorched by the spark of his every nerve ending lighting up beneath her duplicitous touch, her breasts crushed against his chest as she grapples—embracing him tightly—as he holds her up.