Babygirl (SEQUEL to Fuckboy - Draco Malfoy)

25. devilish.

Coffee black, tea with two spoonfulls of honey.

"God," he exhaled when he had finished, smiling as he painted. "I will never get enough of you."

"Hm . . . " Evan hummed in a tease, "You're getting spoiled now, aren't you?"

"I can't stop," Draco said in a delirious chuckle.

Evan smiled, raking his hair back from his eyes. Draco closed them and rested his head back on the headboard, basking in the early morning light and the ethereal creature on his lap.

"I'll never ask you to."

- - -

With the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them; and they were both ever sensible of the warmest gratitude towards the persons who, by bringing her into Derbyshire, had been the means of uniting them.

"That's it?!" Draco exclaimed, snapping the blasted book shut.

"What do you mean?" Evan laughed, looking up from her own book.

"All of that build up and they just end up getting married and living happily ever after?" Draco scoffed in annoyance.

"Of course you hate happy endings," Evan said with an eyeroll and an amused glance in his direction. "What were you expecting at the end of it all, D? Pain and confusion? It's a bloody romance novel."

"Maybe a little bit of action, something," he huffed. Draco crashed over to Evan's side of the couch, flinging himself down and laying completely on top of her, stuffing his face into her chest. He groaned irritably. Evan set her book on his upper back, reading it over his head.

But then, she started playing with his hair as she read. She raked her fingers through it and Draco forgot his literary frustrations and was sighing in elation, tingles arising with force on the back of his neck, no longer even slightly concerned about Jane Austen's bitch ass.

- - -

"Truth or dare?"

Draco looked up at Evan, scoffing at the smirk on her face.

"Oh come on," he scoffed.

Evan informed him that morning, the morning of December 31st, that she did not want to party at Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw or even go to the school party in the Great Hall, where the professors handed out little flutes of sparkling grape juice and cheered when the clock struck midnight. No, instead, she wanted to party strictly with him.

So there they were, sitting on the couch and chugging firewhiskey, blasting music on the speakers and soon, playing a game of Truth or Dare.

"Truth," Draco said after she coaxed him into playing. He was already preparing his own question, hoping she picked truth when her turn came.

Evan, on the other hand, could not think of a single bloody thing to ask him.

"Come on, E" Draco said, fidgeting with his firewhiskey bottle. "There's got to be something you want me to confess to."

Evan sat up, smiling deviously at him.

"That night I got fucked up at Ravenclaw. . ." she started.

"Fuck," Draco mumbled, taking a heavy swig of firewhiskey. He grimaced as it went down.

"What did you say?" Evan asked in amusement. "You've said you 'confessed plenty' that night."

Don't fall in love with me.

"You said I was pretty, I said you were gorgeous," he started in summary. "Then you were going on about how the bet was a front for something deeper, and I told you it was."