Rivals | D.M

41. Going Home

He looks at me curiously, but he takes the ring from my hand. I watch as he slips the ring back onto his finger, his hand now only slightly yellow with the remnants of  bruises.

"Yeah you're probably right" he mumbles, his eyes lifting to look at the space where the ring once was on my neck.

I feel my neck grow hotter under his stare and I curse myself for being so awkward around him.

"I don't think he would like it if you told him you gave it to some girl you were fucking" I clumsily laugh at my attempt at a joke. The tension felt wrong, like someone had stretched an already tight string around us and suddenly the string was knotted awkwardly at the center.

His light eyes stare at me oddly.

"Your not just some girl I'm fucking" he mumbles quietly, his eyebrows furrowed.

I narrow my eyes, wondering if I heard that right.

"No?" I ask, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the way I was standing. I shuffle my feet and pull my robe sleeves down.

He walks closer to me, stepping around his trunk now on the floor between us. I shiver as his hands slip underneath my robes and settle on my waist. He pulls me close and I have no choice but to look up into his eyes.

"Look, I'll write to you when I'm away and maybe I can get away from the Manor and we can meet up over Christmas?" He asks hopefully.

My heart sinks when he doesn't answer my question, but the small hope in his voice helps me stay still in his arms.

"Ok deal" I whisper before he leans into me and places his soft lips on mine. I slant my mouth over his and force his lips to part. Burying my hands in his white hair, I pull and mould my tongue with his, letting them dance fiercely in our mouths. I wasn't going to get this for a while, so you bet I was going to get the best kiss out of him I could. I can't help but writher against him as I feel his body press keenly against mine in response.

His kisses grow more feral as his hardness grows against my inner thigh, but before I can run my hands down his chest he pulls away. I groan at the sudden movement.

The tension in the room is suddenly thick.

"I need to go" he says between gulps of breathes. His hair was rumpled from my hands and his lips looked swollen. I clench my thighs at the sight.

He notices my clenched thighs and sighs loudly.

"Fuck sake" he groans, running his hand through his hair, "If I had more time, I would fuck you right here on this bed and punish you for the shit you put me through this morning" his eyes glare lustfully at me.

"When do you have to leave?" I ask, dropping the cadence of my voice low and looking up at him between my eyelashes.

"Not enough time to fuck you like you deserve" he purrs deeply, his eyes lewdly staring into mine.

Goosebumps erupt all over my skin and my lower stomach thrums with arousal.

Draco steps back further from me, as if the distance would help our aroused state. Not likely.

"I need to go" he states, tearing his eyes away from my face and to his trunk.

"Ok" is the only thing I can think of saying.

I don't know how I feel about him leaving for so long. The last month had been a whirlwind of emotions between us and I never really had a chance to think about anything and now he was leaving before Christmas. We didn't have the opportunity to think things through, to think about us.

Maybe that was a good thing?

Maybe him leaving so abruptly was better for us. This way we couldn't ruin anything.

"See you Flint, don't get into too much trouble without me" he says before flicking his wand making his trunk disappear.

"You know I can't promise you that" I retort, giving him my best smirk.

He smirks back and gives me a wink before turning around and leaving me alone in his now empty-ish room.

Now what?

--

I leave his room immediately. I couldn't stand the intense smell of peppermint he left behind.

Maybe now that Draco was gone, I could focus on finding out what was happening at Hogwarts?

We would probably have to wait a few days for a reply from Blaise parents and I didn't get a chance to ask him about his father and the Death Eaters. Maybe I could write to him about it?

I couldn't help but wonder if Draco being sent home was the same reason Nott was sent home. But I quickly squashed that thought because Nott never came back and I couldn't think about Draco not coming back either.

Maybe it was a family emergency?

Fuck, my head was pounding again from all of the unanswered questions.

I find Blaise in the same position I left him in. I shove his feet off the couch and plonk myself down next to him with a heavy sigh.

"What's up?"

"Draco left, his father sent him home" I tell him.

He looks up and gives me a curious look.

"We need to find out what's going on with this school Blaise" I huff before leaning towards him and resting my head on his neck.

His body stiffens but after a few seconds he relaxes.

"I feel like were the only ones that have no idea what's going on" I murmur.

Draco's POV

I was informed that I was to use Professor Snape's fireplace. I meet him in his office, his smarmy beaded eyes followed me as I walked into his icy room.

"Why am I being sent home?" I ask him impatiently.

His head tilts as he studies me.

"Your family needs you right now" he simply says, turning his tall body and swinging his robe along with him.

"Is someone hurt?" I ask confused. The vague information I was getting was really started to agitate me.

"They will be if you don't go home" he says sharply before shoving a palm of floo powder into my hand and pushing me towards his tall dark fireplace.

--

The smell of soot thrusted up my nostrils as my feet heavily planted themselves on the polished green and white marble floor that was my families drawing room.

After coughing up a good amount of dust, I was met with my father's piercing stare. He was lounging on a nearby black velvet armchair, his long black cane resting against his leg.

"Why am I here?" I demand, not bothering with pleasantries.

He looks at me with so much contempt that I can't help but flinch under the unnerving gaze.

"Good to finally see you Son" he pronounces, his tone serious and formal.

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.

"He's grown tall Cissy" a snarky female voice echoes from the left of me.

My mother appears from the shadows of the hallway, along with a tall women, her thick long black hair stark against her pale white skin. My aunt.