Ineffable. [D. Malfoy]

twenty-nine.

The book has seemingly disappeared in the morning. Esme's eyes wander across Draco's bookshelf, her fingers tracing along the spines in search of the missing one. Her fingers steadily take their time on each cover. She does this five times until she's sure he has removed it.

 She wonders what he's hiding from her. But she finds it quite strange; he is that oblivious to the fact that she would be involved by it from the moment he told her off. The warning on his voice- set's off a red alarm in her mind, but she shoves it aside, focusing her attention on finding it. She's determined, and it's exciting. For once, she can be occupied in her time without wandering around her room waiting for Draco to come back home. She wants to wait until this forbidden secretive object reappears, but it would be a waste of time.

The bubbling patience has simmered to the surface, engraving her thoughts in the hope she will get a head start. But then she's being thrown across a line- looking back at the bed, Draco remains fast asleep, his chest falls and rises underneath the midnight blue covers, as his hair is sprawled out on the pillow.

 It's in moments like these she is grateful to catch glimpses of his calm- peaceful manner. The lines of stress are absent from his forehead, and the purplish crescents have faded slightly. His skin is still pale, but as the sun returns from its downfall, rising up making way through the curtains of the room, the colour is flourishing back in, laminating his face with a painted shade of white. He's almost so perfect, to be real, and she finds herself blinking slowly, hoping that the image of him in bed won't fade away amongst the rest of the things in her life. His presence is an anchor to her anxiety- steadying her balance.

Esme's head whips back around, eyes searching again for the cover drawn on with runes, she skims along the small rows faster, and it feels like she's going to be caught. She knows his reaction won't be pretty- because he told her to stay away. He told her to drop it and never look for the book again. The odds were always going to be against her favour. She was never one to follow the rules and was never one to stay out of something she was told not to do. Then again, the consequences will have to be worth it, regarding the slight panic in his voice. She is eager to find out what he's hiding and how much discovering the secret's lying beneath his surface are worth it after all.

When he stirs again, she immediately turns back, her hands leaning against the long stand. She slipped on Draco's dress shirt, and it barely covered the top of her legs. The first three buttons are undone, and a smirk appears over her pink lips as she replays the moments from their previous night. Esme tiptoes back to the bed, sitting on the edge. Her fingers reach out to caress his hair gently, and he stirs again, groaning into the sheet. Draco lifts his head- eyes now wide open, and a beautiful smile plays over his lips. "Good morning, Darling."

She leans down, pressing her forehead up against his, "Morning."

His head tilts up, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, "Breakfast?"

"Hm, I'm going to dine in the library? You can join me if you'd like," she giggles. Draco rolls his eyes as he pushes up from the bed. His back is now to her as his hands reach behind his head- stretching his body. His movements are pieces of art put together into one- he could be exhibited in a museum from the simplicity of gracefulness he holds. 

When his head shifts back around over his shoulder, he catches her staring, and her cheeks warm up. She feels the blood rushing to her skin as he eyes her body, the outline of her breasts, portrayed through his top. Draco bits his lip before meeting her eyes, "Stop staring."

She scoffs, leaning over the bed and shoves him slightly. "You were staring at me, cheeky boy."

"Cheeky boy?"