i s o b e l
It was almost one in the morning. Isobel sat on the steps of Draco's apartment building, shivering into her coat.
They had spent most of the day in a park, talking for hours, blowing foggy breaths into the winter air and watching crowds pass by. When the cold had gotten too much, they had walked back to his apartment and had takeout and wine on his couch. And she had, the entire time, hardly been able to tear her eyes from him.
Draco had left her at St. Mungo's, once again with his word to see her the next day.
Her mother had slept through the visiting hours again, but this time there was no sleep-talking; no more incoherent mumblings. Isobel had clutched her hand for two hours, sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair and willed her mother to get better.
When she got home, the silence was overwhelming, the loneliness heavy on her heart. She had paced around the house, necklace clutched in her fist, thinking that tomorrow wasn't enough. She wanted to see Draco now. If the threat existed of forgetting him at any moment, she wanted to make the most of the moments they had left.
She couldn't give him everything he wanted. Not yet. The sight of him in the cottage plagued her; standing in a door frame, pale face stricken with misery. She wasn't ready to give him the life that he longed for, but they could at least make the most of this one.
When it reached midnight, she Apparated back to his apartment, thinking that surely he would be back from the bar by now. But she had let herself into his building and knocked on his door for a few minutes, and there hadn't been an answer. So she sat outside on the steps, waiting for him in the cold. Heart beating fast; excited to look into his grey-eyed gaze once again.
He showed up long after she did, shock of fair hair visible from a whole block away. She watched him approach, chin in her hands, elbows on her knees. Wished desperately that she had just trusted and approached him months ago, so that they might have had just a little more time.
But when Draco reached her, he didn't look happy. He stopped metres away from her, said, "You shouldn't be out here alone."
Isobel stood. "Hello to you, too."
The streetlights around them cast sharp shadows across his face. "You should be inside."
She frowned. "You weren't home, so I was waiting for you."
"Next time, just go in," he said, scowling. He walked past her, pulling his key from his pocket. "That's what everyone else does."
"I can't just walk into your apartment if you're not there."
"Yes, you can," he said. "I'm giving you a key. Wait inside, next time."
She scoffed; watched him unlock the door and shove it open with a shoulder. "Did something happen at the bar? Something made you angry and now you're taking it out on me?"
He didn't reply. Just held the door open for her to go in; his back to her.
"Listen, if you don't want me here, I'll go -"
Draco turned back around to her, one hand on the door, the other clenched into a white-knuckled fist. "Go in, Belly."
"No, I won't," she said, lifting her chin. "Not if you're going to act like this."
He raised his eyes to the starless sky. For long moments they stayed there, and she was about to argue further, about to say something else to wind him up even more, when his gaze drifted back to her. "If you need me to beg, I will."
