Babygirl (SEQUEL to Fuckboy - Draco Malfoy)

18. fatal flaw.

"Draco!" his mother chastised. He took a step downwards, the clicking sound of his shoes echoing off of the cold walls of his childhood home.

"I'm done," he said severely. "I've had enough, understand?" he stepped down and down the steps until he was at their level again. His father's fist clenched at his side, but he didn't break.

"You would give up your legacy over—?!"

"OVER HER, YES! ANY FUCKING DAY!" Draco exploded. "ANY DAY! I'D LEAVE RIGHT NOW!"

"SHE IS A PHASE!" his mother screamed, her pale face turning red. "A TERRIBLE, MEANINGLESS PHASE! ONCE YOU GROW OUT OF IT, THEN WHAT?!"

"YOU WILL NOT COME CRAWLING BACK INTO MY HOME!!" his fathered screamed at his mother's side.

"I'D RATHER FUCKING DIE, BUT THANKS!" Draco screamed at him, because why in the fuck would he ever go back there? He looked around the sitting room. It was all dark and cold and posh and expensive—if he never stepped foot in that house again, it would be too bloody soon.

"HOW WILL THE MALFOY NAME CONTINUE ON?!" his mother screamed.

"MY FATHER NEVER WOULD HAVE—" his father started, about to tell Draco how his mother and father never would have allowed it, that they were rolling over in their graves, right now.

"I am not a punching bag for your own shitty childhood," Draco snapped at him. His father clenched his fist again.

His mother took a deep breath, raising her hands. "This is a mistake, one that will cost you greatly if you ever—"

His father interrupted, rambling on about the dangers of it all, how the rest of their cutthroat psychopath family members would react once they knew. Draco panted, his vision going entirely red as he listened to them grovel. They went back and forth, going on and on. Draco stared at them in silence, clenching his fists at his sides. His mother was screaming, then his father, then his mother again, each repeating the same phrases and words repeatedly, like they were stuck in a never-ending pattern.

His father was the one who cracked him, shattering him with a final blow. By then, Draco went deaf, as if his head were held under water. He felt it, bubbling up in his throat like bile—the trump card that he did not want to play. And yet, he wavered, gripping onto the staircase railing with a trembling hand.

"She is nothing more than filthy . . . little . . . MUDBL—!"

"I LOVE HER!" Draco shrieked at the top of his lungs. His heart crashed violently up into his throat, the moment the words left his mouth.

Draco's face fell. His heart stopped as the epiphany crashed down onto his shoulders like the fiery waves of an apocalypse.

"YOU ARE A CHILD!" his mother screamed, incensed to shrieking by his confession. Draco blinked frantically. One of the house elves, Topsy, squealed by the window as she dusted the pane.

Draco choked on the air, his eyes burning. He swallowed hard, willing the hot tears not to fall. They welled up in his eyes as the all-consuming emotion rattled his rib cage. He would never be the same, now that he had said it out loud. He was fucking ruined.

His parents both went silent, and goddammit, he was ready to leave, right now. He made a frantic decision to pack his trunk, the second he succeeded in escaping to his bedroom.

"You do not love this girl," his mother said quietly as his father took a deep breath. "You are a foolish boy with foolish feelings, and they will fade."

"Oh, I am a fool," Draco laughed as rogue water stung beneath his eyes. "Because I have loved her for so . . . goddamn long," he said, raising his eyebrows at his mother and spitting the words out in her face.