分卷阅读11（2 / 2）

“Don’t do that,” Draco said, furrowing his brows.

“What am I doing?” Potter asked, puzzled.

“Don’t go around, showing people your dimples as if it’s nothing.”

Potter blinked. “I—What?”

Ugh, why was Potter so dense?

“Your dimples,” Draco said, emphatically. He jabbed a finger at Potter’s cheek, poking it repeatedly.

“Ow, Draco,” Potter half-heartedly protested, his lips stretching into another smile.

“No dimples,” Draco said, defiantly.

“I didn’t realise my dimples are so offending,” Potter sniggered.

“They are,” Draco said, scowling stubbornly. “Very.”

“Is there anything else about me that’s offending you?” Potter asked with a strange twinkle in his eyes.

Draco looked him up and down, trying to choose his words carefully. “Honestly, Potter, you should know by now that basically everything about you is offending,” he drawled. It wasn’t untrue.

“I think your eyes are what’s offending him the most,” Blaise unhelpfully chipped in. “And probably your hair. And…” He feigned reflectiveness before he shrugged and leaned back. “Yeah, no, he’s right. It’s everything.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Potter grinned.

Draco hastily reached for his wine. Was it possible Potter had finally learned to grasp the concept of subtext? Nah. Draco was probably worrying over nothing.

“You know what I find offending?” Potter said in a low voice. Draco shot him a wary look. “That shirt.”

If Draco hated one thing, it was being flustered.

“Unsurprising,” he said, trying to sound like he didn’t care. “One look at your clothes says everything.”

It really did. The beige jumper he was wearing was the most boring thing Draco had ever seen. At least it complimented his skin tone. And it did bring out the colour of his eyes. A bit. Draco had also noticed that the jumper was a little too big for Potter, but he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, exposing his forearms, his lovely dark skin…The grey Muggle jeans also weren’t as tight as Draco liked his own trousers, and, horrifyingly, they were ripped at the knees.

“You don’t approve?” Potter asked, not sounding one bit like he wanted anyone’s approval. He leaned back in his chair and put one leg over the other, his ankle resting on his knee. And then, he put his arm back on Draco’s chair.