the boy who had no choice [d.m]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓

But Elara hadn't expected the bold Slytherin girl to slide her hand under the table and palm Draco from over his pants.

Her temper flared, her teeth immediately clenching together. The only reason she could see it was because Theo and Pansy were situated some distance apart, having gotten into an argument ten minutes earlier, and were stubbornly working silently, their backs to Elara, their chairs apart.

So she had a clear view of Draco and Millicent under the table and when Millicent squeezed her perfectly manicured hand over him, Elara nearly combusted.

But then Draco's fingers were wrapping around the his friend's wrist and shoving her away. Elara knew his grip was tight enough to bruise.

Millicent didn't look deterred; Elara presumed she thought he was playing hard to get. She whispered something in his ear and tried to move her hand back to where it had been but Draco's grip didn't loosen on her wrist, a muscle in his jaw twitching, obviously trying not to make a scene in front of Madam Pince who was browsing in the aisle behind Elara.

Elara bristled, the jealousy rising in her like a wave. She pushed herself to her feet and muttered something about finding a book to Freya before she stormed away from the table, the image of Millicent touching her man burned into her mind's eye.

How dare she -

Could she even be mad? It wasn't like Millicent knew her and Draco were -

Were what?

Did he even mind? They'd never talked about exclusivity per se. Maybe he wanted more than one -

She'd kill him if he did.

Could she? Was it justified?

He took you to the fucking Ritz and made you promise never to stop loving him. Of course, it's -

"I don't like that look on your face."

Elara froze, coming back to reality, realising she suddenly had a book in her hands in some deserted aisle of the library.

Draco's tone was calm as he sauntered towards her, hands in his pockets, looking the complete opposite of what Elara was feeling. The rage bubbled in her chest - but not at him.

"She - " She kept her voice quiet but it wavered with anger. "She fucking - "

"Mmm," Draco hummed, coming to a stop in front of her and looking down at her. "She did. She's awful, really. You'd think she'd know how to feel a guy up - considering that she's had her fair share of men in her bed. She doesn't apply enough pressure."

Elara glared at him, his words doing nothing to soothe her fury and only instigating it. "Oh? Is that what you wanted her to do? Apply more - "

The smirk on Draco's face grew and she made to slap him but his hands gripped Elara's hips, yanking her closer, crushing her to him. The book in Elara's hands slammed shut and wedged between them at the movement and Elara let out a gasp, still glaring at him.

"Let me go," she hissed, unable to get the image of Millicent whispering in his ear and palming him, a smirk on her wretched face.

He was hers.

Draco clicked his tongue as she struggled to get out of his grasp and plucked the book out of her hand, easily, pushing it into a random slot on the shelf before backing her up against it, one hand going to rest on it behind her, the other still holding her in place.

Then, it slid from her hip to grasp her own and move it over his trousers, pressing her hand over his length. Elara's breath hitched in her throat, her heartrate slowing. He wasn't even hard.