This Dream Isn't Feeling Sweet - OTA - Forward-timed to early Wednesday morning
Sleeplessness wasn't usually a problem for Draco. He was a busy man, directing people throughout the village like a the conductor of an orchestra. After all of that, for someone that ran on four to five hours a night, one might think sleep wouldn't be a problem at all. Usually it wasn't. Usually, Draco fell asleep quickly and woke up on time without issue. He was practically robotic. For the past few nights, however, he had floated on half consciousness before giving in and taking a potion.
Tonight - or morning, rather - Draco stared up at the ceiling wondering if he should have seen this coming. The days following Hannibal's dinner party (and their - ahem - extra curricular activities), Draco had slept better than ever. He had even grabbed a few extra hours simply because he could, a highly irregular occurrence. Maybe that was why.
The blond sat up and rubbed his dry eyes. It was nearly four in the morning and he had counted all the sheep that could possibly be counted without going crazy. To hell with this; he tossed the blankets aside and stood from his usual nest on the couch to stretch out the laziness in his limbs. There was only one way to work out this extra energy and itchiness. He had a standing practice slot at the studio on Wednesday mornings, but why him-and-haw about for another few hours? Draco changed quickly, grabbed a sweat rag, a bottle of water, his well-used music player, and made his way through the silent hotel.
The ballroom was a favorite haunt for these types of excursions. It didn't see much use outside of the holiday season, so why not adapt it for his own purposes? Plus, he could play his music as loud as he wanted without bothering anyone; the place was big and echoey enough to not need a lot of juice in that regard. He left the lights off; it seemed more appropriate. The moon was just bright enough to cast a silvery glow through the windows. Feeling restless, Draco set his usual warmup mix to play, and began stretching more thoroughly. Going through the motions was relaxing and energizing all at once. Maybe it was the structure, the concentration needed to stay in proper form, the familiarity. Bend, reach, hold, release.
Of course the freedom of dancing was what really grabbed Draco. When he danced he could let go in ways he could not by doing anything else. And it was okay. He could let out the rage, the fragility, the fear, the unshakable loneliness - all of that baggage Draco carried around everyday in a neat little package buried down deep where no one would see.
Maybe after letting it out, he could sleep again.
Fully warmed up, Draco cast a mild cushioning charm on the unforgiving ballroom floor to save his bare feet from injury. And then he let it out until the light of dawn started coming in through the windows.
[OOC: Got a bit long, so I put a cut in. Feel free to have your pup spy on him. He'll be too tired to be snippy about it. ;) Also made a Spotify playlist here. ]