♟ ; ϟ——
[ An affirmative hum follows his words, towel
squeezing her wet hair. She’s still chilled even
with the shower, but if he wants to wait she won’t
be the one to argue. More body heat already in
the bed that way too.
The towel gets tossed over the rack to dry, her clothes
she’d been wearing across the shower rod to do the
same. Maybe she’s procrastinating actually crawling
into the bed with him. Her reflection in the mirror is
paler even than usual under the lights, or maybe it’s
the contrast against the dark, bruised looking crescents
under her eyes.
The sleep is necessary, weird attraction or teasing put
aside. Mud and grass can come off the boots in the
morning and she caves to the need to crawl into bed,
tucking herself up under blankets. Plenty of pillows
and actual space between them, but she’s shared a
bed with him more than anyone she could remember.
Greens blink at him in the dark, exhausted as her
head sinks into the pillow. ]
[ a yawn interrupts the thoughts and she wrinkles her
”We should actually figure out
where we’re going next. Anywhere
but Italy isn’t really a destination.”
「♕ ; ♢ —-
[ The sheets moved around as the body beneath willed
himself to get as comfortable as he could imagine and
as obnoxiously as he could before she joined him. He
didn’t want an elbow to the ribs, after all. ]
❝This mattress is heavenly.
Like…a cloud…not like the
ones that we went through,
F u c k i n g h e l l…. —————- ❞
[ There was a noise of comfort before he turned his head.
She had yet to join him and it made him smirk a little, a
cheek rising in the thick pillow. There was still a slight
shiver from him, still f r o z e n from the flight. With a
magnificent effort, he attempted to ignore how each of
his toes felt blue. Nothing was worse than cold feet, he
decided very abruptly. God, he hated feet. Another shift,
this time it was an attempt to shake his thoughts. In the
hopes he didn’t look like he was having a s e i z u r e, he
flipped on his back, his left arm going behind his head
casually. His feet, in the process attempted to rub against
the mattress in hopes that a second of friction they would
stop bugging him with there frigid state.
She was coming
over. Shite. Watching her apprehensively, he watched
her climb in with damp hair and baggy clothes. In more
habit than the fact he was displeased by the fact her hair
was still wet, he narrowed his eyes at her. She yawned
and was forgiven but pursed his lips to suppress his own
yawn, causing his eyes to water slightly. ]
❝ That can wait till morning. ❞
[ With that, he turned back on his side, facing her as his
left arm dove back under the pillow and his right hand
propped his head up some. ]
❝… I can’t believe you flashed me, though. ❞
[ With a tsk of his tongue, he shook his head to himself
before sinking back down with tired eyes and exhausted
body. It took a lot out of you —— running for your life. ]
❛ fine, fine! no hospital wing. but you’re
going to have to let me help you, okay?
do you know if we’re near a bathroom,
somewhere i can get water? ❜
she was close to panicking, not caring
whether or not the boy wanted help.
❝ I’m fine. Honestly, you’re being rather ridiculous. ❞
[ He was shivering —- loss of blood did that.
People thought of him as an Ice King but
a label shouldn’t have made him so cold
to the touch. There was sweat on his
forehead and his teeth were unable to
clench, for they began to c l a t t e r instead. ].
and she’s scared, too. and though she has no idea what draco is going
through, she’s still fucking terrified of anything AND everything. she’s
scared of her father and mother, of the mark that will soon be forever
painted on her milky flesh, & worst of all, she’s scared of the monster
that she has been raised to idolize and the things he may, no. will make
her do. AND SHE IS SLOWLY BEING RIPPED FROM THE INSIDE OUT.
she needs a friend, always has and though their relationship is
and sarcastic & dark she still thinks of him as a friend, her only friend.
this needy snake is screaming LOVE ME! LOVE ME! and no one is
listening, and though she
can’tsay it — she still expects someone to
notice. can’t he see? or anyone? isn’t she as transparent as she feels?
doesn’t he notice the way her heart twitches with every
that spills past his bloodied fangs, covered in her own blood. he is
killing her, sinking his teeth in and ripping out every ounce of trust
she has ever laid in his tainted palms. he knows things no one else
should. things that haunt her dreams at night & wake her screaming.
‘ if i wanted to hear this, see this i would’ve just gone home
because a hand across the face is far less painful than this. ‘
There are some key words that can just wake people up.
There were shadows in Draco’s eyes and gradually, they
began to fall under his eyes in crescent shapes. Darkness
was heavy and thick and clouded him. Such vulnerability,
it was hard to see, so worried for yourself. When people
were weak, they drew back, they stepped back, they began
feeling selfish. Draco was no exception but when she said
THAT it snapped him away. Hooded eyes grew wide in a
flash before going neutral. The room seemed to bare more
colours from the fire —- it seemed so plain a moment ago.
Eyes fell from her and to the carpet before he took even
breaths, calculating what approach he should take. She
was breaking and no one wanted to touch broken glass
for it bit back and made one bleed. He was afraid because
so much would probably make her storm away, finally winning
this battle. Licking his lips, he reached out only a hand towards
her, leaning forward in the process. His fingers beckoned her
in a solid motion before laying flat for her to take it. He didn’t
say anything, however. That way words couldn’t be twisted around.
He looked…..which was rare, g u i l t y . He wouldn’t apologize,
though. I’m sorry were words that could only be tainted with
sarcasm. Draco didn’t apologize, it wasn’t in his nature.
Words meant nothing to him, except for the use of manipulation.
Actions, however, were different. Actions were what mattered,
words were just noise.
“Yeah right! A glass turns into two.
Two turns into three, and you know the rest…”
[A brisk wave of his hand directed the general
intent of his message. His father was hardly an alcohol.
Perhaps a clumsy drink. A rather amusing drunk.
This might be entertaining. Scorpius let him carry on.]
“And what? Get scolded by her?
She finds the title insulting.
Says it makes her sound old and expired.”
[He snickered behind his glass.
Anything remotely girly was demeaning for his masculinity.
The Jr. Malfoy shrugged nonchalantly.]
“You’re half right. Actually, I thought I’d play
the role of a good grandson and pay them a visit.
That and I needed to see if I can borrow the
Manor on Saturday night. It’s my turn to throw
the annual Slytherin Quidditch party.”
“If I invite you, I invite you. And if the invitation gets
lostin the mail don’t be offended.”
❝ . . . ❞
[ He set down the glass on the counter with careful patience,
not making much of an importance of the gesture. Deep silver
took in his kid as eyebrows sank down. He decided as the boy
would continue running his mouth, information slipping off
his careless tongue, he could collect all he could of it before
talking himself. Keep talking, idiot, he said in his head as
he took a seat in one of the stools, leaning gracefully against
his elbow as the heir to his name finally came to a stop. ]
❝ First off,
she is my mother and I don’t give
a damn about what she asks you
to call her. To me, she is your
Secondly, might I
be so curious to ask why you’re
having the party in that manor
when you have this house?
Slytherin Quidditch Party, my arse.
What have you been telling your
dark objects still in there and it
would be cool to find them?❞
[ There was definitely an easy smirk bellow skeptic eyes. ]
hp meme: [2/7] relationships
→ narcissa & draco
‘ well why don’t you tell me how you really feel ? ‘
he’s slowly crumbling down her castle walls, digging deep & prodding
at every single one of her wounds. it hurts, and though her tongue is
sharp and her words venomous, she is no match for draco malfoy. he
is the king of insults — the boy invented the word bully. he wants to
break her, she’s sure of it. whether it be because he’s just mad about
something else, or her ; she still feels
betrayed. and as her lips part,
she struggles for the right words as fingers itch to pull the sharpest of
knives out of the small of her back. every word he utters, it twists and
digs just a little bit deeper into her porcelain flesh.
the gift was expensive, and well thought out. so his reaction is nothing
but a complete & utter disappointment. fuck, she thought he’d like it.
’ you don’t have to wear it then. it’s stupid. it’s fine — ‘ though the
fake smile dulls the ache only slightly, the rejection stills burns like
no other. but she is pansy parkinson, and she has to be s t r o n g.
so despite the strain on her eyes, no tears are shed. grabbing the
ring, she slides it upon her middle finger before holding it up for him
to see. she wears a smile to match his own, before a pathetic little
laugh spills past pretty petals. ‘ —- looks better on me anyways. ‘
❝ Oh YES, let’s talk about feelings and braid each other’s hair, shall we?❞
The sarcasm BITES like cold poison. He knows he’s lashing out, it the
process creating irreparable damage, but it’s for the better, isn’t it?
T I M E S H A V E C H A N G E D . Pansy needed a cold shower
to bring her into the reality of things. Wake up, his eyes basically screamed
when his lips pursed in the most forcible grins. It hurt to smile like that,
but not as much as it did to watch her there, looking threatened and
vulnerable like the prey he was treating her as. This wasn’t a knife in
her back —- that would be more deliberate. This was worse. A knife
would sink, hurt, kill. Instead, he was waving that knife in her face so
figuratively it would scare her. She would be cut by thoughts of betrayal
until he stowed the knife away and threw his mask aside. It was all an act.
Though, it was no acting how livid he was —- at not just her but his world
that was suddenly leaving him naked and vulnerable. He was scared
and fear plays with people like chickens with their heads cut off.
The annoyances she gave were simply wood on the fire. Slowly, he
was burning those away, heaving breaths before he really was aware
it had gotten to that rate. He was still holding the ring, her words sounding
like they were muffled — as though his head was plunged under water. He
didn’t feel remorse, though. He felt empty, struggling where he stood. The
ring is snatched from his fingertips and he looked up, his smile melting off
his face because he doesn’t have energy to keep the cool exterior. With her
flipping him off, he leaned back into the sofa, putting his arm up on the back
of it. He shook his head, faint and weak grin barely lifting his lips.
❝ Naturally, it would, Pansy. Merry fucking Christmas. ❞
“Because I’m adjusting the sight on it and
then I’m going to test it. Why are you so
curious about it?”
" Because it’s a crossbow and it’s in front of me? ”
”Touch it and I’ll punch you in the throat.
I’m not even close to joking.”
" Fine. “
[ His hand slowly drew away from the crossbow on the table.
She said not to t o u c h , but he will stare with narrowed eyes. ]
" Why do you have that, exactly?"