Cursed | Draco Malfoy, 18+

S i x t y - f i v e

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''No one saved me until you did.'' 

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Heartbreak kept on drowning around them. Draco was held in a chaotic battle between wanting to leave the house and stay still with Amelie. He didn't know what was for the better.

He was sinking so far beneath the surface in the missing of her that he didn't know if he'd ever make it back up. He was constantly buried in the loss of her.

It was hard to fall asleep, to wake up when he finally found a moment of rest because he dreamt — and he always dreamed of her. He didn't want to leave that protected, safe place in his mind.

Draco wanted to be there with her. In his world of imagination, where he was able to love her freely, unconditionally without ever being questioned. He felt her next to him, her skin brushing against his at night, but it wasn't the same.

She was here, but she wasn't.

It pained him tremendously — so much that he'd put the warmest temperature on in his shower, nearly burning his skin just to feel something, but not even that caused the blond to get in phase with his emotions.

He was a wreck without her.

It wasn't human to feel this way. To have her so close, still with such a distance between them.

Draco turned around, facing her in the darkness as he watched with the small flicker of moonlight lightening up the room, how her chest rose and fell. It felt like it was all he could do, make sure that she was still breathing.

''I miss you,'' He whispered, trailing the tips of his fingers over her arm, ''It's something I never thought I'd say to anyone, but I do...'' The goosebumps coating her skin caused a slight arch in the corner of his mouth, ''I do miss you.''

He was breathing lightly, feeling nauseous at the loss of her, ''I have nightmares again,'' He confessed to her unconscious self. He never spoke about his haunted dreams.

''I have nightmares again, and I could really need you right now,'' His heart ached, the pain of it flushed through his veins, ''I need you to ease my pain like you always said I eased yours.''

He still — somewhere in the constant disbelief that she'd failed to wake up, hoped that she'd answer him, even if he knew she wouldn't. It was as if a piece of her, living inside him, kept that wish alive.

''I need you to ease my pain, Amelie. I don't know—''

He didn't want to speak. He didn't know what to say because he didn't want to bother her, but he felt as if he could be honest with her. As if he could speak his truth and she'd never judge him.

Amelie never did. She never deemed him for what he was. He never spoke much about it, he didn't open up to anyone about the dark secrets he carried, but he still understood that she saw it.

That she was more than well aware of what he'd done and who he was — but she still cared for him the same. Amelie was wise like that. She didn't convict before listening and knowing the brutal truth.

She never held him accountable for what he did in her absence and before she met him. She knew of him, and she carried the reality of him being the boy he was — but she didn't push him, not once.

She held so much grace for being as haunted as she was. She was an angel living in everyone else's hell, and Draco could never compare to that, nevertheless understand it.