ᴜɴᴅᴏɴᴇ | ᴅ.ᴍ

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 - 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

If I hadn't mentioned it before. I was terrified of blood.

He leaned forward as my hand pressed against his arm. He was lightheaded. "I'm fine," he said as he covered his arm again. I took a deep breath in and grabbed his arm. "What — "

Pulling out a wooden chair as I allowed him to take a seat. "I'll be back," I told him as I assured him with my eyes. He grabbed my arm as he jerked me back, pulling me towards him as my breath felt cut off.

"I don't need your help," he said, "and I don't want it."

"I'm surprised you didn't give me a whole lecture on why you don't need my help and how you're capable of doing it yourself and the whole notion."

He looked at me, blinking his eyes to wake himself. "I'd rather you not faint on me."

I moved his hand as blood covered my hands. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't panicking with this much blood all over my hands.

How did he even make it from New York to Scotland without fainting? "Why didn't you tell everyone about this? I'm surprised you made it here successfully."

"Not my first time." I looked at him, he's done with it before. Curiosity grew within me as I allowed myself to not think too much of it.

Slightly tearing his shirt as he groaned. "Pretty sure you can purchase another one, Malfoy." It was a small gash as blood pulsates out of it. He was staring at me as I ran my thumb over the cut.

He hissed as I apologized. "It'll only take a second." He looked away as he groaned in annoyance. I rolled my eyes as I muttered a spell that my mother taught me. I didn't need my wand. I was pretty capable of doing magic without it.

When the realization hit him, he turned his head to look at my fingers against his skin. Whispering a spell as the gash slowly closed. My mother taught me to use the spell if I had ever hurt myself, I'd certainly say it was useful.

Tracing over the scar again as I repeated the spell once more. Running the tips of my fingers over his soft skin as his blood inked through the lines on my hand. I looked at him to find him looking at me with curiosity. That's how I'd look at someone when I had a series of questions unanswered.

"Ferula." It was the spell for wrapping bandages around the place of injury as it strapped tightly like a splint. I looked up at him as he stared at his arm, tilting his head as his eyebrows rose.

"I could've done that," he mumbled half unconsciously, "but you let me sit here and allow you to torture me."

I smiled slightly. "I believe you're trying to say thank you, Malfoy." He shook his head as he attempted to stand up. His hand was on my shoulder but when his body gave no energy it pulled me down.

I looked at him as my body grew rigid. I didn't particularly like what had just happened. "I could've done it myself," he said as he poked his finger against my collarbone, "you are infuriating."

His grip tightened on my arm as I tried to adjust my arm to his fingers pressing onto my skin. "To someone who finds me so infuriating," I said as he looked at his hand wrapped around my arm, "you're sure holding onto me very tightly."

He let go as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I pulled back and tried to wipe off the contact of his skin off my arm. Every time I did something nice for him, he had to be like this.

I turned around as I grabbed my cardigan, putting it on my body as I walked past him. "Try not to fall on the stairs," I said as I stopped on my tracks, "or do fall on the stairs since you're so stubborn. I don't care."

And with that, I left him in the common room.

Secrets never really stay secrets is one thing I've learned. It always comes out no matter what. Laying in my bed as I stared at my ceiling. The dorm was dark as silence crept in.