The waves overlapped one and another, dancing in the moonlight. The waters quickly slipped into beautiful darkness of black ink as the black sky reflected its ownership onto the earth's land.
Together the two sunk beneath the water- the warmth of it settling amongst their skin's- their clothes drenched. She watches him as he stands under the moonlight—pale skin shimmering like a crystal waterfall as the droplets pour from his hair.
She can't help but admit he looked younger than any time she'd ever seen before. His hair pushed back away from his forehead, dripping with water, held a slight teenage look to his manly features.
His gaze isn't on her, but his silver eyes twisted magically- as if there was a connection within his being. Under the water, their hands find each other tangling together. She shivers at the coolness of his touch, watching the goosebumps rush down her arms. Her dress clings to her body tightly, outlining her absence of undergarments underneath.
"We should go back inside." her calm voice reflects amongst the rippling waters.
He turns to face her, his face sculpted into a more intricate expression, which is harder to decipher which emotions he decides to show. It's odd the way his persona change's based on the placements they situated themselves in.
He nods, keeping a hold of her hand before walking them to shore. She stands soaked in her dress as he mumbles quick-drying charms for the both of them.
The silence was deadly, eery in a way, and without a doubt, there is a hoard of thoughts racing through his mind. She wants him to speak and talk to her. But then again, she also respects his space and privacy, and if he wanted to speak, he would.
"Everything alright?" she murmurs.
His eyes flash, scanning her features, "Yes." Her face falls in disappointment from the evident distance in his voice, as if he hadn't spent an entire day with her.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and she closes her eyes, breathing in his scent. His lips melt into her skin- perhaps like they belong. Her body and soul was his for the taking. Without another word, Draco apparates them back inside. They land in his bedroom, and he releases a sigh, "I need to finish up some work. I'll come to bed soon."
"Are you sure everything is alright?"
He sends her a smile, but it looked forced, his eyes tightened in exhaustion, "Of course, darling."
She takes a step back, and her eyes locked with his as he murmurs apparate; he gives her a reassuring look before his body disappears, leaving her alone once again.
Deciding on what to do, Esme trails into his bathroom. She discards her dress standing naked as she waits for the water of the shower to warm up. Her body is cold, chilled as ice due to the after-effects of being in the water for so long.
Secretly a part of her wishes, Draco would come back to the room and shower with her. But he has other thoughts on his mind that he needed to tend to. It was important to him, and it was vital for her to respect his privacy. As much as she wanted to prie, she's contained the itching feeling tingling in her body and begging for an outcome source. But at the same time, she fears he will pull away.
That he will soon become bored of being with someone much younger than him, and this charade of emotions they had given into would fade among the rest of him, leaving her standing in the remains of his dust.
She was a shadow of his infatuation, a candlelight burning so intensely for him. She hoped he would burn brighter to see the everlasting remains of the wax sculpt into brilliance.
On instinct, she turns the tap to freezing and steps inside. Her body falls to the floor as the water feels like a slash of a blade against her back. It was marking her engraving the words "Pain." deep inside. Esme didn't know why.
Her mind had not concluded for her actions; she thought she left them behind once Scorpius abandoned her. To her disappointment, they returned harder than before with her fear of losing Draco. And maybe it was because she knew losing him would be worse.
A dagger to the heart wouldn't compare to the immense suffering- if he seemingly left her. Her dependence on him was fighting, a balanced weight that could frolic and fall at any given second.
Her head falls into her lap. No more tears, just the pain from within- the constant worry, the regret of what she was doing was wrong. And so she sits in the water; it pours constantly, but with her head in her lap, the time seems to tick by following a ritual pattern, ignorance to the state she was slipping into.
A sickness of many sorts.
Her insides were dishevelled long before her outsides, the feeling of numbness had resurfaced on the tops of her flesh, and the longer time passed, her thoughts have also gradually slipped, slowing with time and moving onward without care of her presence in this time and moment.
After what felt like an hour, the water stops running, and a tiny hand reaches up to her skin. Her head tilts slightly, eyes blinking to get a view of the person caressing her skin as if she was a child.
When her vision refocuses, she catches a glimpse of Nolly mumbling spells and wrapping a warm blanket around her body. The water disappeared from her skin, and she sits with teeth chattering. Her fingers are stuck around her knees, holding her body close. "Miss, what happened? Are you okay?"
Esme turned her head smiling softly at the elf who had come to mean a great deal to her. Nolly's eyes were widened in fear and surprise. And some part of her was also surprised she had gone through with something like this. She opened her mouth to speak, "Yes, I'm okay, Nolly. Thank you."
"Would you like me to help you out, Miss?"
Her teeth chattered loudly, clashing together as the sounds echoed around his bathroom. "It's okay. I think I got it."
Slowly Esme rose from her spot on the floor; steading back on her feet, she tilts her body against the wall next to the shower, breathing in and out, containing her panic of what she had just done. Her eyes closed, capturing large amounts of air, trying to adjust the emotions battling against her brain.
Just then, the sound of an apparition takes over the silence in the bathroom, and she knows it's him without having to open her eyes. Draco is arm's reach away, but his eyes are red, igniting with furry, and a hint of worry present.
"The fuck were you doing?" he sneers, and just like that, her mood has fallen into the pits of hell, crashing in flows of lava. Her attention focuses on the swollen bags under his eyes, the exhaustion evident, and she wonders how long it's been since he left her in the room.
He takes a step forward, "Esme, What. The. Fuck. Were you doing?" he grits out, his words are sharp, and she feels the tone of his voice rest inside of her. A poison of many sorts.
His eyes shift across her features and down her body, looking for any signs of discomfort from the cold. Her mouth opens, and he waits impatiently, an annoyed look playing on his lips. "I'm sorry." is all she can afford to say as she stares down at her feet. Because sincerely, she is sorry and feels an anger rush inside herself for the stupidity of her actions. Her head rises again, and his fists are clenched at his sides.
"I won't do it again. I'm sorry, Draco."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, and she notices the way his lip quivers slightly before asking, "Did I do something, did? Did I say something to make you do this? Was this my fault?"
His entire face falls as he processes his own words feeling ashamed. Esme's heart speeds up because she knows him long enough to see that he will blame himself for the wrongdoings of others actions, even when it has nothing to do with him.
She considers it a trait from the past, and the conversation about his father manipulating him into thinking he was always wrong flashes through her mind. She shakes her head, and he takes a hesitant step forward. It feels as if the clocks are ticking again, an endless cycle of waiting to reach a certain point, a specific time.
She takes a step forward, rushing in the safety of his arms. She knows that underneath her towel, she is bare, and he is more than well aware. "I won't do it again; I got carried away," she mumbles into his suit. Her breasts are hard against his chest, and he pulls her closer, feeling his growing erection under her towel.
Draco pulls her out of the bathroom, walking towards his room. He stands behind her, his hands soothingly running down the length of her arms. She can feel the goosebumps rise against her skin once again, and he pulls the towel away from her body, leaving her naked.
She turns, facing him, and his eyes rake up and down her body. She can feel the blush flow into her cheeks, making her skin warm. His touch once again sends tingles down her spine. Gently she sits down on the bed, pulling him with her.
She knows now the rawr image of her nude is intended into his skull, mesmerized to detail. She blinks, and his shirt is off along with his pants. She blinks slowly again, and he's hovering over her, doing nothing else but staring, gazing at her body as if it was sculpted by the gods, made to be exhibited in the world's most excellent art museums.
He's looking at her as if she is a piece of art, and her whole life, she's felt like a broken painting, a messed up canvas with all the wrong colours splattered in different directions. She's always felt unusual compared to the others. But now she knows it's because she is unusual.
Her body is a canvas of splattered paint alleging the wrongdoings and the hardships of her past. Her body is not a simple artwork without a missing elegance. No. She is so much more; she is marked in ways that define her beauty.
Her scars make up what who she is- her strength and weaknesses. Draco's attention is glued to her, taking her entirely in while she is vulnerable to him. Without rush and appreciating her body- without a doubt, she's falling in love with him.
"You look like a fucking goddess Esme.", and he leans down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her hands find his face, tucking away the strands of platinum hair that have fallen over his forehead. She leans upwards, sending a single kiss directly to his forehead before leaning back onto the bed.
He kisses the space in between her jaw and neck, peppering soft kisses along with the scars of her collar bones, whispering words like, "Mine."
"Beautiful."
"I don't deserve you."
"All mine."
His mouth moves towards her stomach planting the most delicate of kisses, and she gasps as he moves down lower. He grins from the engraving of his initials in his skin, tracing the outline of it with his lips.
His mouth is inches away from her cunt, and he's watching her with soft eyes. "Who do you belong to." His voice is in opposition to his features; the possessiveness makes her heart race, blending the sensations of artlessness. Her hands run through his hair, and he presses kisses in the most intimate places, "You." she gasps out before he continues his journey lower, now searing her legs with kisses.
Her body is a map entitled with unknown discoveries; one thing she's certain of is that when Draco's lips meet hers, he's found home, and together they are inevitable.
He tucks a strand of curls around her ear, "No one will hurt you. I'm going to protect you. I promise." and her heart twists in her chest because one thing she remembers is that Draco Malfoy rarely makes promises, and when he does it's a vow he keeps forever.
Her body encloses around his. Esme snuggles into the crook of his neck as he holds her close against him. And when her eyes close, she misses what he whispers against her skin.
"Prendre. prendre tout de moi et ne jamais le rendre. je suis à toi." (Take. Take all of me, and never give it back. I'm yours.)