She felt her cheeks burn. For a tense few seconds, she stayed where she was, glaring at him, then grumbled, "No, I don't need that." She pushed past him, into the building's lobby. "I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, I've heard that one before," he said, tonelessly. "You don't remember, but that's a common line from you."
Isobel's temper flared. "You can't expect me to know that. And I can take care of myself."
He rolled his eyes and turned his back on her; took the stairs two at a time.
She hurried after him. "I don't need you to protect me, and you can't be my bodyguard simply for the sake of putting your mind at ease."
"I don't want to be your bodyguard."
"Then I don't see the problem."
"The problem is," he said, stopping on the stairway and turning to face her, "you sitting in a dark street on your own. Given that you won't wear the necklace -"
She groaned. "How can you still hold that against me?"
"I don't hold it against you," he said sharply, "and it's not surprising in the slightest. But your mother is sick regardless, so I wish you'd just put the stupid thing on. I'm sure she'd want the same."
Isobel glowered at him, but he looked at her blankly; his expression almost bored. "Fine," she spat, swivelling. "If you're going to be like this, I'll just go home." She stomped back down the stairs, refusing to look back at him. "Forgive me for wanting to get out a bit, after being locked up for a year and a half -"
Before she could go any further down the stairs, his arms were around her waist and he had lifted her over his shoulder.
She stared at his back; felt him take the last few steps to his apartment. "Draco -"
"I forgive you," he said, and she felt him shift his weight as he unlocked his door, one arm wrapped tightly around the backs of her thighs. "But I'm afraid I can't let you go."
She gritted her teeth. "Put me down."
She felt a tremor run through Draco's body, and realized that he was laughing. "All in good time," he said, entirely nonchalantly.
He raised a foot, kicked the door shut behind him and dropped her onto the couch. She sat up, seething with anger; looked into his amused expression with disgust.
The lights were off, but street lights shone through the window, casting hazy shadows around his apartment. In the dim light, she saw him crack a smile. "Now that we've made ourselves comfortable, would you like anything to drink?"
"No."
He sank into the couch beside her, lifted one foot to his knee and began to untie his shoelaces. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she felt her face begin to warm again.
"No, thank you," she amended, disgruntledly.
Draco's smile pulled at the side of his mouth. "Who's sulking now?"
She sighed, pushed her palms over her knees, let her anger burn out. "Is this our way?" she asked. "Is this how we act around each other, just - clashing all the time? Bickering?"
His smile faded. "No, it's not our way. Only over serious things."
She nodded slowly. This was serious enough to clash over; she could accept that. "What happened at the bar?"
His expression darkened. "Doesn't matter. Astoria showed up, and everyone was making stupid jokes." He kicked off his shoes. "About the wedding."
Isobel felt herself soften. "Does she know yet? That I'm alive?"
twenty-five
Start from the beginning
