"But what on earth will they do if they find someone who's dressed better than them?" Draco asked innocently. He did not find himself looking that attractive with a baby in his arms. In fact, Draco was positive that he'd be covered in urine at one point. Babies were petty like that.
"I promise." Shaking his cigarette carton so a smoke neatly slid out, Draco placed another between his lips before lighting silently once again. Perhaps he was glad to finally smoke, as he wanted. Or, perhaps this was his own coping mechanism. "What shall we do when I'm back, then?" he suggested. "We haven't gone out in a while. Too busy christening the house," he flirted, but there was no toothy grin on his lips. Instead, a lazy expression graced his aristocratic features. Only the left corner of his haughty lips was turned upward the slightest degree.