They're sitting in the gazebo in the warm afternoon, a light breeze coasting by and rustling the pages of their books.
Mavi turns the page, sighing as Draco's hand slides up and down her calf. She's sitting along the bench, legs stretched out and he sits at the end of them, absent-mindedly tracing his fingers over her skin as he reads.
Neither of them have said a word for the past hour — and yet, Mavi finds this is one of the best activities she could partake in. It settles some heavy part within her — smooths it out and soothes.
"You never told me the story behind this," Draco murmurs, eyes still fixed on his book as his fingers hook into the anklet she wears, giving it a brief tug, making the charms on it jingle. "If there is a story."
Mavi peers at his hand from over the top of her book. "Not much to tell. My mom gave it to me. She had a matching one. I had to keep resizing it as I grew up."
Draco pauses, his gaze falling on the silver anklet, fingertips grazing the little star-shaped charms. "It's pretty."
Mavi's stomach sinks at the thought of her mother — her soft voice singing, the smell of berries, kissing her head, rocking her to sleep. Reading to her as they sat by the fireplace in the lodge at Venna Lakes, their father baking in the kitchen a couple feet away. Soothing her when she scraped her knee, words of endearment on the tip of her tongue.
Draco squeezes Mavi's ankle, leaning down to press his lips against her bare knee, thumb making wide comforting sweeps over her skin. "You okay?"
She stares out across the Malfoy grounds, in full bloom now that spring has arrived. "Just catch him. That's all I can ask for."
Draco kisses her knee again and goes back to reading his book.
———
Mavi's made for spring, he thinks.
The pink in her cheeks, the rich colour of her hair gleaming in the sunlight, the rays throwing her eyes into a kaleidoscope of browns and goldens. The light breeze that picks up strands of her hair and blows them into her face, the way the greenery behind her makes her look like some sort of nature goddess.
She's made for spring — and him, it seems.
———
"What are you laughing for, you infuriating little witch?"
Soft pale strands slide through her fingers, looking like they're woven from moonlight. "The irony isn't lost on me, you know."
"Hmm?" Warm hands spread her legs, head dipping between them. That should shut her up — but she needs to say this and so manages to get it out around her choked gasp.
"You said..." She shudders as his tongue works wonders against her. "You said no sex under your roof."
He pauses, silver eyes flicking up to meet hers. "What?"
"You said—" She regrets ever speaking because now he's stopped and she needs to feel him before she explodes with desire. "You said it was fine if I was a sexually active individual, as long as it wasn't under your roof."
She can see the realisation dawn on his face and he smirks, lowering his head back between her thighs but pausing a breadth away. "Let's amend that then, shall we?"
He spreads her open with one hand and meets her eyes once more, corner of his lips twitching up into a smile. "Sex under only my roof—and only with me. Sound better?"
"Who else was it going to be with? Gypsy?"
He rolls his eyes, still with that smirk on his face and gets to work again.
———
Waking up is no longer something he dreads.
Not when he gets to see her sprawled beside him, burrowed underneath three blankets like some sort of hibernating mouse, her hair spread over the pillow. Not when he gets to turn onto his side and press his lips to her forehead in a lingering kiss, breathing in cinnamon and red apples. Not when he gets to watch her sleep, tracing shapes on her shoulder with his fingertips.
And when she rouses herself, sleepy-eyed, he gets to feel her press closer to him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Gets to feel her mumble how warm he is against his skin, gets to feel her tired good morning kiss to his jaw.
On this particular morning, he can't find it in himself to leave the bed, although he know Vera will crush him for being late. He can only hold Mavi, her bare body against his, marks still dotting the both of them from the activities of last night.
"You're gonna be late," she murmurs, head nestled in his neck, eyes still closed. He doesn't blame her for being so exhausted — he'd kept her up till three last night, just ravishing her.
"Don't care." He rolls them over, pinning her beneath him and she laughs, pretty and echoing in his ears.
"Vera will kill you," she giggles as he peppers her neck with kisses, going over the bruises he'd left last night. "And she'll keep you back late as punishment and then I won't be able to sleep."
He scoffs, licking a stripe up the column of her neck and making her gasp when his hand drifts to her breast, almost on instinct. "You're a fucking liar, Sultan. You're always passed out whatever time I get home. You know how much it hurts my ego to know you can't even wait up for me?"
"I'm a sleepy witch," she says back, fingers coasting through his hair and coaxing a sigh out of him. "And it's not my fault you leave me alone all day."
"Wish I didn't have to," he murmurs, pulling back to watch the way the rays of sunlight make the colour of her eyes shift like a kaleidoscope. "Come to work with me."
Mavi snorts, tugging him back down to place a kiss on his jaw before shoving him off her and swinging her legs off the bed. "Yeah, right. Get changed, Mr. Malfoy."
He snags her wrist and stops her, meeting her eyes. "I'm serious. You can bring a book. Just stay for a couple of hours and then—"
"Are you forgetting how hard we're trying to hide from reporters?" she asks, softly. "I don't think showing up at your workplace together is a very good idea."
Gods, she's right — but he's so tired of hiding her. She deserves to be flaunted — and Draco wants to spoil her in every way.
"I don't care," he says, roughly, releasing her. She's still naked, although she grabs one of the blankets to drape around her. "I want to be seen with you."
Emotion flickers in her eyes. "Draco..."
"Is that such a bad thing?" He sits up, watching as she pads over through the open bathroom door to brush her teeth. "That I want people to know?"
"Of course not," she replies with a sigh, her back to him. "It's just—We agreed this wouldn't be a good idea."
"I changed my mind."
"I know that's what you think right now but—you might regret it later and—"
"You know I won't. I regret nothing when it comes to you."
She falls silent for a long moment as she brushes her teeth and he uses the time to get dressed, slipping into a tight long sleeved black shirt and trousers.
"I just don't think this is sensible," Mavi says finally, turning from the sink, adjusting the blanket around her. She steps back out into the bedroom, her face cleared from sleep. "It might be more convenient—but we'll regret it when it blows up in our faces. Can you imagine the headlines?"
"I thought they didn't bother you." He angles past her into the bathroom to brush his own teeth and she starts to don her clothes.
"They—" She pauses and then continues, cloth rustling. "They annoy me. I don't like being called a whore. Whether I know it to be false or not."
Draco's chest aches. This was never what he wanted for her. He finishes brushing his teeth a couple moments later and turns, stepping back into the bedroom where Mavi has now changed into the tank top and jeans he'd peeled off her last night.
She looks — nervous, hands tucked behind her back, watching him with eyes that tell him she's trying to gauge how he feels from just his body language. She's always like this — trying to figure out how he feels from just looking at him. Always scared to step on toes or offend him.
"Mavi," he says on an exhale, pulling her into his chest and she melts at the show of affection, arms twining tight around his torso. "I'm not upset with you."
"Okay," she whispers into his chest, her voice muffled. He can feel her body relaxing against him as he kisses the crown of her head, stroking a hand down her soft hair. "I just don't want you to think I'm scared of people knowing."
"Even if you were," he replies, pulling back and framing her face with his hands, "I wouldn't blame you. I'm aware that being seen with me isn't the easiest thing."
She blinks up at him with those big brown eyes and says, "Being with you is the easiest thing I've ever had to do."
Draco's heart seems to do an acrobatic number in his chest. He stares down at her and she stares back up at him, unflinching, her expression open for him to read. For him to see how sincere she is.
"Mavi." He can't get anything out around the knot in his throat and he leans down to press his forehead against hers.
"I mean it," she says, tilting her chin up to brush her lips against his in the ghost of a kiss. "I really fucking mean it, Malfoy. You're the easiest choice I've ever had to make—and I'll continue to make it. For as long as I can."
His chest is tight — and he can't breathe. Can't handle the tenderness in her voice, the reverence in her tone. Like she's—
Like she's in love with him.
"I have to go." He pulls back, his head pounding and strides over to the bed, grabbing his wand. "I'll be at the Greengrasses for dinner so—"
"Don't wait up?" she finishes, quietly from behind him as he reaches the door.
Gods, he wants to turn around. Wants to put her at ease because he knows he's unsettled her with his abrupt behaviour. But love—
Love.
In a world such as his filled with magic, love is only thing he lacks.
"Yeah," he says, softly, his back to her. "Don't wait up."
———
"Mavi!"
It's Nezryn bursting into the flat, waving a flyer, the biggest grin on her pretty face. Mavi jumps, startled out of her skin, nearly choking on a piece of Orange Chicken she's eating right out of the take-out box.
"You'll never believe it," Nezryn says, so excited she can barely contain herself. "He lowered the rent!"
———
She can't go back to Easton. She can't ask him to take care of her father again. She can't. She doesn't even think she has the guts to face him, considering their last conversation made her throw up on the rug.
She can't. She won't.
———
He can't look at her.
He can't look at her without feeling like someone's driving a knife into his gut. He can't look at her and know what she feels for him — what he feels for her.
The one thing he'd never expected to feel. Not with her. Not like this.
———
She'll ask Draco. Sure, he's been avoiding her — that much has been obvious. And it hurts — of course it does — but she's Mavi Ilayda Sultan. When has she ever not understood? When has she ever not considered someone else's sentiments?
If he needs space, she'll give it to him. As much as it pains her, she will. He'll come back when he's comfortable again. He's not like the others.
He's not like Easton.
So she'll ask him — when the time is right. If he can help out with her father. Maybe pay for a nurse to watch him, now that Nezryn's back at her cafe. Mavi practically had to force her out — that's how reluctant her best friend was to leave her — but Mavi had promised to ask Draco for help and that was the only thing that had convinced Nezryn that it was safe to go back to working.
She'll gather up the courage to ask Draco when he's speaking to her again. Until then, she'll just scurry between her flat and the Manor while he's at work.
———
He bumps into her in the hallway and she reaches out to steady herself on the wall, blinking up at him.
"Careful," he murmurs, angling past her. Before he can give in. Before he can catch a whiff of cinnamon and red apples. Before he caves.
"Draco." Her voice halts him in his tracks. He hasn't heard his name from her lips in days. And still, she hasn't confronted him, hasn't said a word to him about it. He can tell she's trying to give him space. Trying to understand him — even when she's the one being hurt in the process.
He turns his head, unable to look at her still — but just enough to catch her in the corner of his eye. And he waits.
"Can you look at me?" she asks, so quietly he barely hears her.
That godsdamned lump in his throat won't let him speak. "Please, Mavi."
She takes a step closer from behind him and he can tell she's only just holding herself back from reaching out for him. "Please what?"
"Don't ask this of me," he says and then he's gone down the stairs, leaving her standing on the landing.
———
She'll wait a little more. It's been a week of shuffling between the Manor and her flat — a week of sleeping in her old bedroom downstairs instead of in Draco's bed. A week of losing sleep so she can Apparate back to her flat every hour.
Draco knows. Of course he knows. She probably triggers the wards everytime.
But he doesn't ask. So she doesn't tell.
———
There's too much going on.
He's cracking and crumbling and breaking — and with Aumutage, Silas, Vera, the Greengrasses and Mavi, he's beginning to splinter.
He can't explain any of it — can't explain the tightness in his chest, the migraines, the way he feels like he's been running a marathon when he's only been sitting at his desk for the past two hours. Losing himself in his work, trying to distract himself.
At least he's not losing sleep everytime Mavi triggers the wards during the night. It's not like he gets more than an hour without her next to him anyway.
———
Her resolve is crumbling. Life has suddenly turned very lonely again — and she can't understand it.
Can't understand him — or the anxiety that's begun to wrap its spindly fingers around her heart the past few weeks.
She's panicking. She always makes bad decisions when she's panicking.
———
It's been a month. He'll talk to her. Soon. It'll get better.
He needs to get better. He needs to pull himself together and not let the fear of falling paralyse him. He needs to learn not to pull away — especially not when she says things like that.
So close to love. He's so close.
But fuck, he's going to ruin her.
———
She hasn't been able to speak to him. Not much anyway. It makes her ache everytime she sees him.
So many times, she thinks she'll stop him where he passes her in the hallway and ask. Ask for help. Ask for money.
One time, in the kitchen, she nearly does. Nearly forces the words out past her clogged throat.
But then he mutters something about how the Greengrasses only want him for his vault — they don't give two flying fucks about blood purity. All they want is the Galleons I have stacked in Gringotts — and the words die on her tongue.
If she asks, he'll think that of her too. He'll think that's all she wants.
But she needs it.
But does she? She can make-do, can't she? No point in bothering him. No point in annoying him.
So she swallows her words down and sips her tea.
———
Today is the day. He'll talk to her.
Things have calmed — and he's already planned out his detailed apology for the way he's been acting. He'll tell her — everything. Explain himself and hope she can find it in herself to forgive him.
———
Easton looks the same.
———
He knows she's at her flat — and he stares up at the tall building, trying to calm his nerves.
He's brought her some lemon cheesecake from Nezryn's café — one of her favourites, according to her best friend. He aches to see her smile again — to hear her laugh, to feel her wrap her arms around him. To breathe in cinnamon and red apples and feel the soft caress of her touch on his face.
He feels for her. Too much. Too little. He doesn't know. He can't figure it out.
All he knows is that he misses her — and that he's about to get her back.
———
This time, she lets it happen without complaint.
There's no point anyway. At least this is familiar. At least this is what she's used to. None of that uncertain business with Draco. None of those wandering thoughts that plague her every night. None of wondering if he'll ever love her back.
This is familiar. This is where she is. This is where she'll stay.
———
There's no Anti-Alohomora Charm on the lock. He would've thought to scold her for it — if the sounds emanating from within the flat hadn't stopped him in his tracks as soon as he'd stepped out of the lift.
No. No. She wouldn't. She wouldn't. She's Mavi Ilayda Sultan and she loves him, she would never—
He hates that he opens the door. He hates that he still had faith in her — even after how blaringly obvious it had been for the past two minutes. Hates that he'd still convinced himself there was a rational explanation for it — other than the one he now knows is true.
He's surprised at the way rage flares in him at the first sight of them, tangled together on the sofa. Surprised at the way he itches to throttle Easton until he suffocates and sharpen his words into a blade so he can stab it into Mavi's chest and hurt her just as badly as she's hurt him.
For a second, all he can see is red — and he nearly does it. Nearly storms right in and hurts the both of them in different ways.
But Draco has always been cold. Efficient. Detached.
So he shuts the door before either of them notices. Turns and leaves, abandoning the lemon cheesecake on her doorstep.
He pretends he isn't shaking when he steps into the lift and stabs his thumb into the button for the ground floor.
———
She curls up on the bathroom floor, having thrown up into the toilet and cries, vomit staining her hair. The tiles are freezing cold against her skin — and she's shaking and trembling and all she can think is that this is too much.
This is too much. She can't take this. She wasn't made to take this. She wants to give up.
But she's Mavi and she has responsibilities — so she rises on trembling legs and goes to take a shower.
———
He's going to ruin her.
He wants to ruin her. He wants to tear her apart piece by piece, wants to make her hurt and ache.
Like he hurts. Like he aches. He wants to make her wish she could rip her heart out — because Merlin knows that's how he feels right now.
Tonight is the night everything changes.
———
Her hair is still damp as she trudges up the driveway to Malfoy Manor, her eyes stinging from all the crying she's done.
Easton had been administering a Draught to her father when she left — and as she'd closed the door behind her, she'd caught sight of a bag sitting on the little welcome mat.
It had a carton of lemon cheesecake inside — and she'd cringed, realising Nezryn must've come by to drop it off and heard her and Easton. She could only hope her best friend had assumed it was Draco — otherwise, she was in for an enormous lecture soon.
She'd deposited the cheesecake inside, telling Easton it was there — since she had absolutely no appetite after what had just happened.
Was it worth it? Was it worth bartering herself away, giving him what he wanted, in exchange for a service she couldn't bring herself to ask anyone else to do?
She feels queasy as she ascends the steps to the front door and has to steady herself against the wood until it subsides. Until she can breathe a little better.
Then, Mavi opens the door and steps into the foyer of her home.
———
She stops short on seeing him sitting on the last step of the staircase, elbows braced on his knees, hands dangling between them.
He doesn't look up at her. Can't bring himself to. Just focuses his gaze on the Malfoy signet ring that he's currently spinning around his finger.
"Hey," she says, softly, moving closer. "Sorry I'm late. I got caught up."
"In what?" He doesn't even try to hide the edge in his voice, the pure fury that ripples through it.
It makes her freeze, her hand tightening around the strap of her satchel. "I...Is everything okay?"
Fuck her. Fuck her and that damn voice. Fuck her for making him fall for her.
Draco stands abruptly, towering over her and her eyes follow him up, confusion flickering in those brown eyes. She looks like she's been crying — but he can't find it in him to care.
"I want you out of this house by morning."
He's already turned and heading up the stairs, every step heavy with the knowledge that this is the end for them. His chest aches and he has to squeeze his hand into a fist to keep from reaching up to rub it.
"What?" Her voice breaks on the word — and something in him seems to crack with it. "I don't—"
"Pack your things," he says, ice woven around every word as he stops on the landing and turns, looking down at her still standing in the foyer, small and alone. "And get out. If I find you here in the morning, I'll force you out myself."
With that, he heads up the next flight of stairs, forcing himself not to turn around to look at her one last time.
———
Shock is an understatement for what she feels.
She stands in the foyer on her own for a long time, trying to process what just happened before she finds it in herself to form a rational thought.
Dropping her bag to the floor with a thump, she heads up the staircase Draco had stormed up a couple minutes ago and hurries to his room, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
He looked so — furious. She's never seen him look so filled with rage.
She doesn't bother knocking and only bursts into his bedroom, halting when she sees him standing by the window, hands gripping the windowsill, his back to her.
She can see the way his shoulders heave — but more than that, she can feel the undercurrent of his power in this room. His magic, sparking and humming just beneath the surface, fueled by red-hot rage. It's a constant thrum — like the muffled hum of a machine.
"Draco, what's going on?" She's scared as she steps forward, tentatively. Her fingers haven't stopped trembling since she left her flat — and it's only gotten worse now. "Why are you—"
"Get out of my room."
Pain spikes through her chest. "No. Not until you explain."
"Until I explain?" He whirls on her, tall and imposing and intimidating, silver eyes alight with fury. "Until I fucking explain, Mavi? What about you? You think there's no explanation due there?"
She's taken aback by his tone, although he doesn't raise his voice at her. "I don't...I don't know what's going on. You're—You're upset with me but I—"
"Yeah." He scoffs, the sound so cold it almost makes her flinch. "Yeah, I'm fucking upset with you, Mavi. Ironic, isn't it? You work so fucking hard to keep people happy—and yet you let them all down in the end."
This time, she does flinch.
"I want you out of this godsdamned house," he growls at her, his magic thrumming faster, filling her ears. "Get out—before I fucking kill you."
He turns away like looking at her pains him, so at odds with the threat he's just thrown at her. Her eyes prick — but she forces herself to stay put and not flee from the room.
"You were fine this morning," she says, voice wavering, not daring to take another step towards him. His magic resonates through her very bones, the entire room brimming with it. "What did I do?"
He doesn't respond for a long time, gripping the window sill. She can make out the muscles of his back as his shoulders heave, his head bent and when she tilts her head to the side to try and catch his expression, she can see his eyes are closed.
Nausea sweeps through her. There's nothing she hates more than when people are upset with her — and it's taking every once of her courage to keep her feet planted right now.
Then Draco speaks, his voice low and rough. Carefully controlled.
"If you wanted to fuck him," he says, knuckles white as they grip the windowsill, "you could've just fucking told me."
Mavi's lungs seem to give out for a moment. Her mind kicks into action, whirring and putting together the pieces in split seconds.
Oh, Gods.
Oh, Gods.
"No," she says, disbelief woven through her voice. "No, no, wait—"
"I don't appreciate being fucking used," he snarls, turning to face her. "I don't appreciate you treating me like a—What was the term you oh-so-cleverly coined? A fucking conquest."
She can't breathe, can't wrap her head around it. "No, it wasn't like—"
"You wanna go running back to that sorry fucker?" Draco sneers, his magic flaring with the words. "Be my fucking guest, Mavi. Get out of my fucking house and let him abuse you the way you seem to love. Is that what you want? Does the way he treats you like fucking dirt turn you on?"
Mavi flinches, forced back a step on instinct. "Please just listen—"
"To what?" he hisses and she's never seen him look so deadly. "To your pathetic excuses that you come up with in that pathetic brain of yours to justify the pathetic things that you do in that pathetic little life of yours?"
It hurts but she's not giving up. "Please," she begs, moving forward and his eyes flash. "You've got it all wrong. I—Just let me explain—"
"I want you out of my house." His voice drops, his magic swirling in the room in a steady thrum, testament to how quickly this could go south. "And I've never laid a hand on a woman in my life, Mavi—but Merlin so help me, I will drag you out by your fucking hair."
Tears blur her vision and it's an effort to speak around the sob that clogs her throat. "Draco, it's not—Just give me a—It's not easy to talk about—"
"I don't fucking care!" He turns away and slams his palm into the windowpane so hard, cracks spread through it like a web. "I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear you. I don't want to be within a ten mile fucking radius of you."
She tries to interject but he barrels onwards. "Run back to Easton. Run back to him, Mavi, because apparently, even after everything, you still want him. Do you like how he treats you like shit? Do you have any fucking idea what it felt like to watch him fuck you?"
"No," she whispers, broken, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I didn't—"
"Was I not enough? You had to go behind my back and have the both of us?" He stops himself, running a flat palm across his mouth in frustration. When he continues, his voice is calmer. "I never forced you to stay. I never forced you to sleep with me and I sure as hell didn't force you to spend time with me. So why? Why did you stay—if all you were going to do was run back to him and let him fuck you into that damn sofa?"
He's shaking and trembling — just like she is. Mavi's sure everything in her is going to shatter, if it hasn't already. She's in line for the biggest breakdown of her life.
"Why?" Now, he's moving towards her, eyes in so much pain she's surprised they're not bleeding. "Mavi, fucking—Look at me and tell me why. Tell me why you chose Him. Tell me why you strung me along."
She wants to say it. She needs to — but it's like the words won't come, caged behind her ribs. Like they're lodged between her bones, aching to be released but simultaneously terrified of leaving the shelter of her body.
"Mavi." He's so quiet, so deadly, so rough. "Mavi, I swear on my fucking magic, I will have you thrown out of the entire city of Wiltshire if you don't start fucking talking."
What could she say? How could she even tell him? When he has that look on his face — half-pleading, half murderous intent? When for the first time since she met him, she's scared of what he could do?
But later, she'll look back on it and think this is the bravest she's ever been. This is the exact moment when Mavi Sultan decided enough was enough.
Draco grits his teeth, fingers flexing at his side like he's refraining from seizing her. "Well?"
"I..." She feels faintly light-headed — like she may pass out.
"Say it!" It explodes out of him. "At least have the fucking guts to fucking say it!"
It bursts out of her like lightning. So quick and so deadly, she doesn't even have time to think it. Like this is the result of an entire lifetime of holding her tongue, of keeping her mouth shut, of putting herself second.
"Because it's rape!"
And everything goes deathly quiet.
Mavi can only hear her blood rushing in her ears, the rapid in and out of her breaths as she watches Draco freeze. Watches his eyes widen as they lock on hers — properly for the first time since she got here.
And then — so quietly, she can barely hear him — "What?"
Her head spins and she has to grip the bedpost to steady herself, the ground feeling like it'll give way under her feet any moment now.
"Easton—He—It isn't fully consensual," she whispers, eyes squeezing shut because she can't look at him as she says it, can't swallow down the guilt and the shame and pure nausea that rises in her. Tears leak out from under her eyelids. "None of it."
There's a brief lull of deathly silence — so calm, even Draco's magic seems to quieten for a moment.
One heart-stopping moment of absolute silence and stillness — and then everything explodes.
The windows shatter, Draco's magic blasting them outwards and Mavi can't help the shocked cry that rips from her throat. Draco doesn't even flinch.
They don't speak for a long time, staring at each other until the drapes settle back into their places and the wardrobe door stops rattling from the force of his magic. Until the sound of shattering glass fades from her ears, until the breeze sweeping in from the broken window fills the room, stirring strands of their hair. Until the floorboards underneath their feet stop quivering, Draco's magic subsiding.
"It—" It's the hardest thing she has to do, the hardest thing she's ever had to say. "It's not as bad as you think."
Draco only looks at her, not showing any sign of even having heard her. His expression is so blank and impenetrable that Mavi steps back.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, shaking her head, eyes burning. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—I had to. He wouldn't stay otherwise. He wouldn't—Draco, I'm so fucking—"
"Please tell me you're lying." He finally moves, lifting his hands to press the heels of his palms into his eyes, inhaling a deep breath. "Please tell me you're fucking lying, Mavi."
She squeezes her eyes shut then. "It's not—I could've pushed him off. I could've screamed. I could've caused a scene, I could've left. It wasn't—It wasn't rape rape—"
"Mavi." His voice breaks on her name and her knees nearly buckle with the weight of the raw pain in his voice. "Mavi, please—"
"I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to—Gods, Draco, I'm so sorry. I'm so—" She shakes her head as the first sob rips from her throat and Draco reaches out for her, instinctively.
She flinches away, her skin burning up, feeling too sensitive — like even just a brush of his hand will make her hurl her guts up. "You wouldn't talk to me and I—"
"Why?" It's barely a whisper, his hands shaking as he shoves them back into his pockets — and when she can find the strength to look at him, his eyes are lined with red. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
The room is spinning and her lungs are beginning to constrict. "Someone—Someone had to take care of him. My—My father. And then Nezryn left and I couldn't—I couldn't ask you because I didn't want you to think all I want you for is your money because I don't but I told her I'd ask you and she made me promise but then you wouldn't speak to me and I thought I could handle it on my own but I couldn't and Easton showed up and I just—"
She sucks in a breath, breathing hard. "I just gave in."
Draco stares at her, the emotion in his eyes chafing against her and he blinks like he's trying to keep back tears. "You—"
He pauses, exhales a long breath. Shoves his hands through his hair. Turns away — then turns back, eyes fixed on the floor and then her face, the floor and then her face.
He's breaking at the seams — but her stitches have long come undone and now she's falling apart.
"Mavi, I..." She can tell he wants to apologise, can tell he just can't speak right now. "Fuck, I—"
"It's fine." Her words tumble over each other. "It's fine. I'm fine. I could—I could've left at any point. It's not like he—It's not like he pinned me down and ripped my clothes off, you know? I could've stopped it but I just—I needed him to stay and it was the only way to get him to so I—It's not like it's actual rape, right? It's just—I didn't want it but I let it happen because if I didn't, he'd yell and sulk and ignore me for three days and I just didn't want to—"
She's crying so hard, she doesn't think he can even understand a word she's saying. She turns, her chest aching and rushes for the door, covering her mouth with one hand to try and stifle the sobs.
"Mavi—" He lunges for her but she twists away, bursting into the hallway. "Hey, wait—"
He could catch her — she knows he could — but maybe he realises how much she needs to be alone right now because he doesn't follow her out into the corridor.
He lets her go, lets her sprint down the stairs and through the foyer, quivering with every step, barely able to think. Lets her burst through the manor doors and run down the driveway, tears blurring her vision, her lungs straining for breath.
Only when she finally gets outside, can she breathe. Only then, can she stop and fall to her knees, throwing up on the grass. Her eyes water further as her stomach heaves.
How could she have said that? How could she have said it was rape? It wasn't. She could've left. She could've chosen not to make Easton happy. She could've let him leave.
It was her choice. It was her choice to keep him with her. It was her choice to give in to get him to stay.
Mavi stays hunched over, fingers digging into the grass, nausea roiling in her abdomen, gripping her like a vise. She's broken out into a sweat despite the cool night air and there are spots swimming in and out of her vision.
The breeze stirs some leaves just beyond her sight as she stays on all fours, tears wet on her face, dropping onto the grass. As she splinters and shatters with only the moon as a mournful witness.
The crunch of leaves beneath a boot has her looking up, Draco's name on the tip of her tongue. He's come to help her — and she has to tell him she can't be helped right now. She can't be helped because there's nothing to help. It was her choice. Easton did not rape her.
But there is no sign of Draco.
Merrick Aumutage leers at her, two steps away, a slow smile creeping over his face.
Mavi chokes on her words and scrambles backwards, a scream building in her throat. But it only takes one swipe of his wand — and her vocal cords are severed.
She grabs at her throat, fear spiking through her, her mind racing even as she scrambles backwards. Aumutage only chuckles and moves closer, his eyes dark and ravenous.
He's here. He's here in Malfoy Manor. He's through the Wards — that means the Aurors have detected him. That means they know where he is. That means Draco will come to her rescue any second now—
But something dawns on Mavi that makes her sick to the stomach. That makes her realise this is the end for her.
She's crossed the boundary of Malfoy Manor. She'd burst out through the gates a couple minutes ago, had ran far enough into the thicket of trees nearby that nobody would be able to detect her here. Nobody would be able to detect Aumutage here.
She tries to scream again — but Aumutage only seizes her ankle and drags her towards him, a cruel laugh pushing past his lips.
"Long time coming, sweet," he says, his voice rough like gravel. Mavi thrashes and fights, clawing at him — but she doesn't have her wand on her. Still, she manages to knee him in the stomach and he curses at her, eyes flickering as he slams her head back against a rock, making pain slice through her skull. "Bitch!"
Her vision darkens but she fights against it, fights against him — kicking her legs and clawing at his face. She draws blood and he curses again, blinking it out of his eyes and she takes the opportunity to ram her knee into his groin.
He gasps and groans — and she uses all her strength to shove him off her, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she scrambles to her feet and spins on her heel, footsteps pounding against the leaves as she heads for the Manor.
He follows behind — slightly delayed due to her well-placed kick — and Mavi strains herself to try and scream, to try and break the spell on her vocal chords. But nothing comes out as she weaves between the trees, muscles fighting hard through the weakness she feels.
Aumutage's hand grazes her elbow and she slams it back, catching him in the ribs. She jumps over a log and veers right, shoving through branches and foliage as they cut through the skin on her arms and face, aiming for the gates of the Manor she can glimpse through the trees.
If she can just reach the gates, if she can just touch them, it'll trigger the Wards. Draco will know.
Mavi runs for her life. She runs faster than she ever has. She dodges and ducks and forces herself on, on, on, don't stop, don't look back, don't give up—
She bursts out from the dense thicket of trees. The gates are five feet away at most.
She lunges.
Aumutage's hand wraps around her ankle. A silent gasp is ripped from her as she's yanked back before she can wrap her hand around the bars.
Her index finger brushes it — and then Aumutage pulls harder and she's colliding with his chest. The last thing she feels is helplessness clogging her throat — and she tries in vain to scream again.
To reach Draco.
Aumutage spins and they Apparate in a resounding crack.
The mournful howl of a wolf somewhere far off pierces through the silence remaining in their wake.
———
did someone say nyx angst-lover malfoy? i believe it was AstrologyAndAngst
cliff-hanger but pls bear with me. i am really very busy rn
what are ur theories!!!
kisses,
nyx