I gently squeeze the door shut, holding my breath as I pray for complete silence. It was late. Or rather, very early in the morning. About 2 am to be more specific. I had talked to my father for quite a long time. Even after Serena had retired into her bedroom attached to her large office, and Lily had gone back to her apartment.
My Dad then made sure I got back to my room, and now here I am, trying to not make a single sound as I attempt to sneak back in. But the second I turn around, facing the room, I notice there's nobody in the empty bed. A small lamp is on, and the doors to the balcony outside are wide open.
A small breeze blows through my hair from where I stand, and my brows quickly knit together. "Hello?" I call out quietly, inching slowly towards the balcony. My heart drops to the depths of my stomach suddenly as I look around the empty room. I don't know what to expect when I step outside, however, it isn't this.
Malfoy leans against the railing, head resting against his hand as I quickly eye the bottle of Firewhiskey in his tight grasp.
"What - what are you doing?" I ask.
"Oh," He exhales into the cold night air, "You're back," He mutters, his lifeless eyes meeting mine.
"Malfoy... what are you doing?" I repeat myself.
"Isn't it obvious Ashwood?" He begins, turning to me as he throws his arms wide, the bottle still in his hand. "I'm trying to have a good time but - you. You ruined it," He says, hatred dripping off of every last word.
"You're drunk," I mumble, shaking my head.
"Well spotted," he rolls his eyes, bringing the bottle to his lips as he takes a sip.
"It's 2 in the morning," I add, feeling frustrated.
"Well don't you just love stating the obvious," he growls.
"What is going on?" I ask.
He pauses. His silver facade breaks for a split second, and the only thing I see is the pain he so desperately tries to hide. But he catches his slip up, pulling that mask back on as his gaze appears as empty as ever. He turns away from me, staring off into the city below us.
"I couldn't sleep. Then I got bored. Then I found the bar," he mumbles, raising the bottle once more. I take one large step towards him, grabbing his arm before his lips can reach it again. He freezes, shooting me a nasty look.
"Please," I whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes.
"And why should I listen to you?" He snaps, his voice as cold as ice.
"Just put the bottle down and come back inside," I plead.
"I don't want to be anywhere near you right now," He says sharply. I swear I can almost feel my heart pinch when he says this. What was wrong with him? I was sick of this little game of his. Acting like he cares for me one second, then flipping a switch all of a sudden and putting up a million walls, blocking me out. I didn't understand him. But then again, Draco Malfoy was easily the most confusing person I knew.
"It didn't seem that way earlier tonight when you kissed me," I say before I can even think through my words. His expression only grows more dangerous. "You know why I did that," he growls out.
"I don't actually. And go ahead and tell me you were trying to protect us. That you looked up and Rookwood was right there. And sure, maybe he was. But you - you fucking kissed me. I thought you were supposed to hate me? You don't just kiss someone you hate," I flare, feeling angry now. I can feel the tension between the two of us, the anger radiating off of him like a sun, and my own scorching rage. Nobody could make me angrier than the boy standing right in front of me.
He's already set the bottle down. His hands are on my wrists, and he's so close. So close that I have to remind myself to breathe. "I do hate you," he says, in a low, venomous tone.
"Why? " I cry out.
He shakes his head, his eyes shut, and his jaw clenches as his grip on me only tightens even more. "Because Ashwood, you make me feel. And I hate it. I despise it," He breathes out.
"Wha-what?" I try to pull myself away, but I can't move. I can't move because something about what he just said both shocks me and confuses me all too much.
"I spent so long building walls, blocking everyone out and pushing them away. And then you, some idiot girl from America shows up and you try to break those walls down. You try to act like you care, and sometimes I almost think you do. But who in their right mind would ever care for Draco Malfoy? Even you're not that crazy, Ashwood," He says.
My skin goes cold, my heart clenches, and it's almost hard to breathe. I don't know what to say at this point. I don't even know what to think. His grip loosens and he lets me go. I fall back a few steps.
"I do care," I whisper. He isn't looking at me anymore, but slowly his attention falls on me.
"Don't lie," he mutters, turning his back on me.
"I'm not."
"It doesn't even matter. You shouldn't care. For your own sake," he says, his gaze stuck to the city.
"And why not?" I ask, taking a step closer.
"I've tried to tell you this. People get hurt around me," He says, his voice quiet and small. I swear I can hear the hurt in his voice.
I stare at the ground. Then I look up at him, but he refuses to look at me. I take a deep breath. "You're not going to hurt me," I whisper. "I've heard that line before," he shakes his head, still turned away from me.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.
In an instant, he's whirled right around to face me. I nearly flinch at the sudden action but I pause completely when I notice the tears in his eyes. "It means the last person that said that to me ended up dead!" He says sharply, pain, anger, so much emotion in his voice as a single tear rolls down his cheek and his lip trembles.
I feel entirely rooted to the ground. My heart stops, and my breath escapes me as I stare at him. So vulnerable, so broken, so - so human. I realize in this moment I've never seen Draco Malfoy like this. I've never seen past the wall he hides behind. Not like this.
His chest heaves up and down, and all words have escaped my parted lips. So I don't say anything at all. I close the distance between us in seconds, throwing my arms around his torso as I pull him into me. I clench my eyes shut as I allow myself to feel hurt for this boy. I rest my head against his chest, hearing his heart pound against his rib cage. He doesn't move a muscle. He just stands there, as stiff as a board.
Until I hear a single sniffle come from him, and finally he melts into my touch. He wraps his arms around me, and he pulls me incredibly and impossibly closer. I inhale his captivating scent, and tighten my grip on him, grabbing a handful of his shirt.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I could never understand the pain you've suffered, and I hope I never have to. But I want you to know I'm not going anywhere. Even if you really do hate me, I'm here for you, always," I tell him, not even bothering to move as I keep my head rested on his chest.
He pulls me away gently. His eyes glow with tears that he doesn't even bother to wipe away. He looks at me intently with those enthralling gray orbs. He raises a single hand, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
"I don't actually hate you. I don't think I ever could," he says quietly.
"Really?" I can't help but ask.
"Really," he nods. The ghost of a smile on his lips.
I take his cold hand in mine and squeeze it gently. "Let's go to bed now, yeah?" I ask. He nods as I pull away. We must both be exhausted because within just a few minutes, the lights are out, and we are both in bed. I stare up at the ceiling, and I quickly realize there is no wall of pillows separating us this time. Just a couple inches of empty space, and I don't feel so tired anymore.
I close my eyes, rolling over so that I face away from him. A couple endless minutes pass when Malfoy's voice finally breaks the silence.
"Ashwood?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you," he says in a low voice.
I roll over, facing him and immediately notice how close we are when I'm laying directly next to him. He's lying on his side, staring at me with that silver gaze I've grown so used to. "For what?" I ask.
"Healing me. And - helping me," he mumbles.
I smile softly. "You don't have to thank me for that. But, you're welcome," I say.
I glance up and down. At the moonlight illuminating his blonde hair, casting a faint glow on his handsome face. Then down to his bare chest, perfectly sculpted. Suddenly, sharing a bed with him felt like a very bad idea.
"I'm also sorry," he says.
"Why?" I ask, a confused look on my face.
"For kissing you," he says, but I don't miss the subtle smirk on his lips.
His lips.
I blink hard. "Oh. Well, it's okay I guess," I say softly.
I had yet to realize how incredibly close we are. Inches apart as we share a longing glance. I watch as his eyes shift up and down, looking from my lips, and meeting my eyes once more. He looks at me differently than he usually does. Like he wants something. Like he wants me. But it's late, and he's drunk, and we're just two teenagers sharing a bed.
"Are you going to kiss me again," I blurt out suddenly. A bright blush immediately rises to my cheeks and I wouldn't be surprised if he could see it, even in the dark.
He lets out a soft laugh, a genuine smile crosses his features, only causing me to blush even more. "Trust me Ashwood, next time, you'll be the one wanting it," He says deviously before abruptly rolling over onto his other side, his back suddenly facing me.
What. The. Hell.
"Goodnight," he says, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.
I lay there in shock. Absolute shock. He was always so unpredictable. He always kept me on my toes. I never knew what to expect from him. And a small, miniscule part of me loved that about him.
I don't even respond. Instead, I silently roll over, facing away from him as I process what he just said.
Next time?
He was planning on kissing me again?