Disobedient -A DRACO MALFOY LOVE STORY-

-27-

Later, after dinner, I headed down to the lake. I knew he would be there.

As I suspected, there he was, sat by the water having a smoke, his quidditch sweater stretched loosely across his back, the remainder of the sun glowing her dying beauty across his silver hair.

Malfoy looked so peaceful on his own, it was as though the open water and the clean, unprejudiced air made him appear differently. Or maybe it was the fact that here, he was not conveyed in the shadow of anyone else; here he wasn't eluded by the false words he used to impress. It was only himself, still by the waters edge.

"How was it?" My question was blunt, yet that was often how we approached each other when one was being serious, there was no room for well thought out wit and tantalising sarcasm.

He turned around slowly, my voice hadn't disturbed him as I thought it would have. Once his face was revealed, although growing dark, I noticed the remains of tears, the lasting results of weeping still evident on his pale complexion.

I had never seen him cry.

No matter how much I wanted to, I did not say anything. He we like only take it as pity, and that, I couldn't bare.

I took a seat on the rocks beside him, the sun now fully set behind the water and the stars itching to prevail through the light blue veil of the sky.

He did not make a sound however, the only noise was the comfort of the lapping tide as it met with the sand, and the sweet birdsong that lifted on the late spring breeze from the trees not too far away.

"Fuck off Emerald." What had I expected. Not that. Although sometimes I forgot that we were not friends as such, though not enemies either.

"Don't speak to me like that." My words were stern and warning. My empathy was lacking, yet I presumed he didn't care.

"I'll speak to you how I please." He dismissed me as he blew a cloud of smoke into the night air, his eyes still on the water yet his mind somewhere else.

I scoffed. This was not the Malfoy I had left in the common room that night. This was not him. This was someone different.

"How about you just piss off, god Emerald, you're always sticking your fucking nose in where it isn't wanted." His words were loud and grew angrier as he stood up in frustration, snubbing out his cigarette with his foot.

I could tell something was wrong, or something had altered, a shift in his usual characteristics, changed within a few days.

"Just because you're annoyed, don't take it out on me. Why are you trying to start an argument?" I said flatly, my eyes narrowing, trying to appear calm.

"Who says I'm annoyed. Just because I'm not the conforming little exile you wish I would be, just because I still hold somethings with value, such as my beliefs. Just because I'm not a blood traitor like you." Those words stung, like salt in an open wound. A wound that had been open for a long time, and one that would probably never heal.

"You know, I really thought we were passed all this." I said slowly, trying to comprehend what was going on, ignoring the horrible vile forming my throat at the words he had just ushered. I didn't like this step backwards he was taking. And I didn't like the fact I didn't know where this built up aggression was sprouting from.

"All what, hmm? Get a grip! I've got responsibilities, a title, a reputation... and you, you just run away from it all. Consumed by yourself and all your champagne problems."

At this point I should've said that I was here for him. I should've asked him what was wrong. But I was too prideful, too vain. Too caught up in not appearing to care, no matter how much I actually did.

I stood up to face him, his face was condescending, mean, a face I hadn't seen him use in a long while.

"You don't have to be so pretentious, your sounding like a spoilt little boy Malfoy." I snapped, standing my ground was too familiar around him, he knew I was never as easy to walk over.

"Pretentious? For fucks sake some of us have bigger issues than our tone! Some of us aren't children anymore. And some of us need to realise that." He pointed a finger at me, an angry finger. He was enraged.

"And some of us have more important things to do than learn to dance for a fucking ball. We cant....We can't keep pretending like everything isn't changing Emerald, like we aren't just heading for an fucking explosion, An explosion that you are a part of!" He was full on shouting now, his tear stained face growing angrier and scarlet.

"What the fuck are you getting at? Why do you find it so difficult to ask for help?" I yelled, my sore voice echoing over the silent shore as I too grew angry, frustrated at his lack of communication.

I knew why he didn't ask for help, the exact same reason why I never looked for any real relief in anyone else. Looking weak, was only a weakness, no good could ever come from exposure.

It was hypocritical of me to say that, pious. I was the last person to want to be burdened with someone else's issues. My icy childhood had frozen me into a cold, uncaring person, who had no sensitivity, no willingness to help. But with Malfoy it was different, and it was different because I understood.

"Don't give me that. Now you want to help me, just because you are weak does not mean I am." He spat in vexation, shaking his head in anger, now he was riled up.

Did he have no idea of the youth I had endured, her hours of relentless torture I had experienced in that house. How dare he call me weak, how dare he. There was too much assurance there. His words sounded final and truthful coming from his hot, firing mouth.

"Don't you dare call me weak." I screamed, the anger growing between us was thick and heavy.

"You know what, I don't need this, I don't want this...I can see why your family don't want you either!" He roared, rage filled and irrational. Malfoy's words cut me like a dagger, twisting and sharp in my stomach.

Tears began to form in my eyes yet I would not let them fall. I wouldn't.

His face fell. "I'm sorry." Malfoy quickly spoke, realising just what he had said as the heat of the moment slowly blew out. But it was only pulling the knife out, allowing the blood to escape, revealing the damage that had been done. It was too late.

I fought away the lump in my throat, I had to get the words out. I had to. He was not going to be able to walk over me again. I was not weak.

"No, I'm sorry!" I shouted, loud, angry. "Because one day you are going to end up a lonely, lonely man. Sad and alone. And you are going regret not treating people with even the smallest bit of respect!"

And with that, I was gone. Ignorantly away up to the castle to accept Pusey's invitation, a heated blonde left standing alone on the shoreline, so much left unsaid.