They stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, Draco burying his face into her honey-sweet hair until sleep overtakes her. He can tell she is asleep by the change in her breathing, the soft sighs drawing out and her hand is limp on his chest. He holds his breath, afraid that if he moves, she'll awake and gather her clothes and this perfectly mundane moment will end. Craning his neck so that his eyes focus on the slightly peeling paint of the ceiling, he realizes he doesn't want it to end, not now, not ever. He'd empty the rest of his finances if it meant she'd stay every night, pressing her small frame into his side, her wild curls covering his ability to see.