mahogany ; d.m

47 - ache

Her irrational behaviour would not falter, the emotions overriding and overwhelming her, driving her insane. She was struggling to breathe at a steady pace, her chest heaving with every shuddery breath.

"Look at me," he demanded, his tone oddly calm.

He brought his hand to her right shoulder. She flinched at his touch, forcing herself to look him in the eyes.

"Breathe," he sighed, bringing his other hand to her jaw, smoothing his fingers against the surface.

She hadn't realised until now just how much she had missed his touch. She studied his eyes intently, pushing all of her focus on every flicker and shade of colour in his irises; observing the deep greys interweaving the spears of silver. The way that his pupils expanded as his eyes scanned her face.

The hand that had been on her jaw moved upwards to her cheek, where his thumb began to wipe at the fallen tears, smearing the despair into her skin. After a moment, he lifted his other hand from her shoulder and did the same on the other side of her face.

He loomed over her, his vision inspecting her features, first her lips, then her cheeks where his thumbs were caressing her, until they met her eyes.

A few slowing beats passed, his lips crashed down onto hers.

Her heart clenched so painfully within her chest she felt it could burst. Each lingering kiss impacted her deeply. Every trace of longing she had experienced since the last time they had kissed, suddenly bloomed within her like an eternal field of flowers and blossom trees.

She leaned into his torso, her left hand reaching for his shoulder while the other grasped desperately onto his collar.

The way that her tongue swiped over his was so familiar, so comfortable, so completely and utterly peaceful. She wanted to feel him forever.

Until reality kicked in.

"No—" she gasped, forcing him to tear his hands from their hold on her face. "No."

He just stared at her, his lips parted in bewilderment.

"You can't do that—you can't take advantage of me like that," she sighed, her fingers holding her jaw where his hand had been.

"That wasn't my intention. I'm sorry," he stated, dismay laced within his tone.

She looked at him for a moment, feeling regretful for coming to him in the first place. She felt utterly pathetic. Vulnerable. Weak.

"I shouldn't have come," she said, before intaking a sharp breath. "This was a mistake. I'm sorry."

She brushed past him, heading for the door.

"Greene—"

She turned at the sound of his voice, trying to control her breathing.

"Why did you come here? Be honest, don't give me any of that 'I had nowhere else to go' rubbish, because there were plenty of places you could have gone."

Athena looked away, contemplating her answer. She knew exactly why she had come. She missed him. She felt an inconsolable need to see him again, face to face. She needed to know that he was alright.

"I'm worried about you," she responded, her tone blank.

Draco scoffed.

"Of course you are," he chuckled, rolling his eyes. She took offence to his ridicule.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have a saviour complex," he smirked.

"What?"