I find I have a picture in my head. A picture of a young man. He is handsome. He is smooth and sophisticated. He speaks in careful tones and subtle innuendos. He is cruel with words like large jagged thorns that will leave you pained and bleeding for some time to come. He is also desperately fragile like a thing of ice carved to a sharp edge but easy to shatter with just the right blow.
There is desperation and yearning inside of him. He is aching with wants and need. He is seething with hate. He is as proud as he is self loathing. Outside he is ice but within a writhing mess of impulses and unspoken desires just waiting for a chance to spring free and walk in the world.
Author's note: I was thinking about Draco in his perfect incarnation and this is what came to me.