Heliophilia; d.m

XXV

DRACO

I did not have time to spend a day at home, as I began to be pressed from all sides, with constant questions and some expectations. I was counting the days to get home while I was at Hogwarts, but once I got home, I realized I'd rather spend all that time at school.

The last time my father brought up the subject of when I would be finally ready to finish the "job", I couldn't stand it. When he asked me why it took so long, I almost snapped, and so as not to do anything wrong or say something I might regret later, I just left, cutting the conversation short.

I needed to calm down, distract myself, let off steam, stay away from them, so I just left. And later I found myself in Violet's room. In the end, everything always led me to her.

It was the day she went to her house to meet Kristen, and something told me that I wasn't the only one in a bad mood.

I spent about twenty minutes there, looking out the window at the side of the forest she saw every day, sitting on the bed she slept on every night, looking at the books on the table she had brought to her room from the library.

I was there for about twenty minutes before the door swung open and I saw her on the threshold, her eyes heavy and her lower lip slightly twitching, indicating that she was on edge.

She stood frozen in place, still holding the doorknob and looking at me as if waiting for something — some sign, some word, anything.

I wasn't sure, but I decided to try my luck, slowly opening my arms, inviting her into my embrace, which she flew into as soon as my arms rose a few inches. She wrapped her arms around me tightly, clutching my shirt in her small fists, and I could feel how tense her body was, so close to mine, like in the good old days.

"I wanted to stay there. They begged me to stay. I wanted to stay there so badly, Draco." She spoke in a voice filled with bitterness and pain, as she pressed her cheek against my chest, where I was sure she could hear my racing pulse.

"I know," I spoke softly, stroking her hair.

All my problems and experiences in a moment seemed to me minuscule, compared to what she had. She was worse off than I was, and like I said, she'd kept it to herself for too long, and now she was gripping the fabric of my clothes until her knuckles were white, fighting her inner storm.

She looked frail and vulnerable in my arms, and that, I had to admit, hurt me.

"And what about you? How are you?" After a few seconds that seemed both too short and terribly long, she looked up at me, and in the dark part of her pupil I could see my reflection — the way she saw me.

Even in this state, she was thinking about me, just as I was thinking about her, and she could deny it all she wanted, but we needed each other and she couldn't do anything about it.

"I'm fine," I lied, turning to the window;  outside the sun was setting, gradually hiding behind the lush crowns of the trees. But the rays barely penetrated the room, hardly illuminating it in any way.

"Should i open the window?" I asked softly, not taking my eyes off the landscape beyond the glass that separated us from the sunset.

"What?"

"To let your breath seep out," I smiled out of the corner of my mouth as I watched her face change.

"Isn't that you gathered it in your lungs? To smell life." I whispered, wiping away the small tear that had rolled out of her eye.

"Open the window," Her voice echoed with mine, "To let your voice envelop the world. It will be heard in all corners of the planet. And someone's heart will make itself felt."

"You're too nice today. Get out." She pulled away from me, running her hands over her face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were depressed. Did you want to cry tonight or break a couple of chairs?" 

She pulled a pillow out from under the covers and shoved it at me,

"Shut up. I wanted to break a couple of noses. And since you're here—"

"You know what my favorite of these is?" I pointed to the book on the bed — a gift from Kristen.

"Did you read this before I did?" She exclaimed protesting, picking up the book, and opened the first page. I already knew what was there.

"I couldn't resist, so, on the very first page, the very first poem, about violets — this is my favorite." I leaned my back against the wall, watching the lines crease across her forehead as her eyes ran line by line.

"This is my poem, Draco."

"I know, that's why it's my favorite."

I took slow steps towards her, carefully taking the book out of her hands, and putting it back on the bed, I took her face in my hands, looking into her eyes, filled with a slight fright.

"Draco—"

"Violet, can we finish this already?"

"What?" She understood perfectly, but still asked, showing her stubbornness.

"Do you think I don't understand what you're doing? Or do you think I don't know why you're doing this?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about." She pushed my hands away from her face and started to walk past me, but I caught her by the shoulders, stopping her. I wanted it to be decided that very evening.

"Do you still love me, Violet?"

"What? How did we even get here?"

Her eyes darted nervously around the room, trying to avoid this conversation, but what mattered at that moment was whether she was going to answer — give us another chance, ending this agony, or give up on us again, succumbing to fear.

"Yes or no?"

"Don't," She shook her head, taking a few steps back, "Don't do it." I could see the whole struggle going on inside her, I could see the anguish and worry in her eyes, she felt cornered, I knew it. I just had to put up with it and leave her alone before it got worse.

With a curt nod and pursed lips, I took a step toward the door, and who would have thought that this step of mine would put the final end to her choice.

"Wait!" She almost screamed as she approached me, blinking away the tears glistening in her eyes, "Of course I do love you, don't leave."

Nothing was lost, nothing was destroyed, everything fell into place again when her lips touched mine, when her eyes closed, yielding to the power of us.
We could be called strong alone, but together, it seemed that we could overcome everything.