𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍

❃ it's okay, flower

"Why are you sad, mommy?"

"You don't miss a thing, do you," she laughed, "I love you, that's all. Sleep well, my darling girl,"

"Wait!"

"What is it, Pen?"

"When you get back, can I have pancakes?"

"Yeah, I can make you pancakes," May smiled, leaning her head against the wall.

"Bye mommy, I love you,"

"I love you more."

The call ended, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Was that your daughter?" Draco was standing in the doorway.

"Um, yeah," May wiped her tears with her palms, "sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know-"

"You keep apologizing for no reason, come on, we have work to do," he shuffled back into the room, standing over the papers.

"I still don't understand why-"

"Why I hate my wife?"

"Yes, actually."

"Because it was an arranged marriage. I don't understand what you're not fucking understanding."

"You talk about her like-like you don't-"

"Like I don't love her? Yeah, that's because I don't, is that what you wanted me to admit?"

"No, Draco, I just don't understand why-"

"Because I don't. Are you happy now? Huh? Come on, answer me Cliffdane, DID MY ANSWER MAKE YOU HAPPY?"

She burst into tears at his sudden enraged outpour, his newfound angry tone filling the silence, "Draco, please stop yelling,"

"It's Agent Malfoy to you. This job is not for the weak, Cliffdane, get your shit together. We have work to do, and I can't have you crying on my damn office floor-"

May flinched away as he approached her furiously, throwing her hands in front of her face out of fear, "No, no, please don't hit me," she cried, "please,"

His anger seemed to break into confusion, then concern as she continued to cower under his presence; for the first time in two years he felt the feeling of guilt.

"Why would you think that I would-I would never hit you, Maybelle, are you crazy?" he placed his hands over her shoulders, "did-did someone hurt you?"

All she could do was nod as he pulled her into his chest, allowing his arms to wrap around her waist.

He felt so familiar; yet so different. His cologne hadn't changed, and he still had that soft assuring tone to his voice, when he chose to use it, at least.

Maybelle just had to bring it back out of him.

It was a piece of himself that had buried itself deep inside his heart, locked away when he forgot about her.

"Nobody here is going to hurt you," he exclaimed, sitting the shaking girl down in his office chair, "it's okay, Flower."

He looked taken aback with himself.

"I-I don't know why I called you that-"

"It's okay," she sniffled, "I'm okay,"

"Do you want me to finish everything up for you? I can apparate you home."

"No, really,"

"You're exhausted, Cliffdane-"

"I don't want to leave. Please."

She could see the hesitancy in his eyes.

"You should go be with your daughter, Cliffdane. Come back in the morning."

"No-" she exclaimed sleepily, and yet, despite her weak arguing, he scooped her into his arms.

"Are you gonna tell me where I have to apparate, or do I have to drive you?"

Before she could answer, she'd fallen asleep, snuggled in his arms.

"Damnit, Cliffdane, you're going to be the death of me," he grumbled, conjuring a small mattress for her to sleep on in the corner of the room, gently placing her on top of it's soft, cushiony surface.

He drooped a blanket over her body in case of a chill, and continued on working, trying to ignore the soft snores of the lovely girl that sat sleeping in his office.

And that's when he noticed it.

That smell.

The smell of that sweet, floral perfume.

❃