"I need a cigarette," Draco said. He suddenly felt disquieted by all the...happiness? Was that the correct word? It felt unfamiliar. The fizzy sensation in his chest had still not quite evaporated. He needed grounding. Fuck, maybe he really did need to meditate. But still, he kept repeating same refrain of HARRY WANTS ME, kept reliving the press of that body against his... "Get me a cigarette. Now."