Even if Draco wasn’t looking at him, he could tell that Potter was smiling at him, feeling the heat of the gesture almost radiating from him. It made him feel even worse, realising that this wasn’t likely the first time that Potter had slept with someone, only to have to face them at the office the next day and while Draco had never been promised anything, nor thought that Potter owed him anything, it still made him sick to his stomach to know that he had just been the next in line.<br/>“Alright,” Draco breathed, unsure what else he could possibly say that could help their situation in any significant way. Now that Potter had mentioned the wine, it seemed impossible not to remember what had followed the wine, the memory of Potter’s hands on him so vivid in mind that it almost made him shudder. It was no help to him to linger on such memories but he also didn’t know how to let them go.<br/>Knowing that it was stupid, Draco allowed himself to steal a brief glance over at Potter, feeling his chest tighten at the sight of him. Of course he was still as handsome as he had been the night before, even more so now that Draco knew how his hair felt underneath his hands and how his body felt pressed against his own. It was a maddening line of thought and yet Draco found it hard to let it go.<br/>“I’ll have Coote bring us some tea,” he stated, having himself skipped breakfast and feeling uncertain whether or not Potter had eaten anything at all.