A/N: So sorry for the lateness! I will be posting two today - to make up for yesterdays. I was rafting in the Poconos for the entire day.
Prompt #15: 7/23/17
232 words, according to Google docs.
He was no saint - that much was obvious. As Ginny brushed back his white-blond hair from his forehead, she traced the scar running through his eyebrow and into his temple. She knew where he had gotten that one. His eyes flickered open and Ginny saw years of torture, abuse, and loneliness within the dark grey depths. He was no innocent, either.
His breath caught as Ginny's hands wandered leisurely down his neck, pausing at his collarbone to touch yet another scar. A gift from his manic father. She pressed a gentle kiss to it, splaying her hands against his lean stomach.
Next came his chest. The scar from the Sectumsempra Harry had given him was still there - an angry, puckered line that would not go.
Harry. When she'd heard what he'd done, she couldn't believe it, even if Draco was a Slytherin. Saint-Potter, Draco had sneered. That's what everyone thinks he is, isn't it? Well, he's not. Ginny had to agree with the petulant blond.
Satisfied with her search, Ginny straightened and tangled her hands in his hair, kissing first one eyelid, then the other. It helped with nightmares, she'd discovered, and she didn't want to be disturbed any more than he did. Finally, she placed a chaste kiss on his firm lips, but before she could pull away, he deepened it.
He was no saint, but then again, no one was.