Draco breathed softly into her ear, still dressed in the pajamas that he had stubbornly refused to take off all night. Rose supposed he was ashamed of his wounds, although she couldn't understand why since she had already seen them. She wanted to touch his skin, bite it, during what had been the wildest and most passionate night of her life. He was still holding her in his embrace. The weight of his arm, now asleep and slipped onto her stomach, limited her movements. All she could do was turn around until she found herself face to face with him and admire him sleeping.