just for you (years 5-7)

chapter 61

the next friday, i'm waiting in the potions lab for theo, sitting on one of the stools with my magical creatures work in my lap.

i hear the door swing open, and without looking up i begin speaking.

"theo, i can't figure out what we're meant to do for question three—"

"nott couldn't make it today," a voice answers, and i look up to find draco still standing by the door, his arms tucked behind his back.

i blink at him, my quill slipping from my fingers and dropping to the ground. his gaze follows it for a moment, and then he looks back to me.

we've been a bit— off— this past week. not necessarily avoided each other, but we both had felt the shift when he comforted me after the attack. i'm not sure either of us knew what to do about it. so, we kept respectful distances and talked in groups, but any alone time was strictly awkward glances and hidden smiles, until one of us found an excuse to turn and walk off.

and then there's the matter of the kiss.

he wants us to move forward, i can see it in his eyes. ever since the kiss at that damn party he's been more— more himself. his old self. flirtatious, suggestive. fucking irresistible.

i'm not so sure— about moving forward. i'm not sure we're in that place yet. i'm not sure he's really ready. i'm not sure i am. so, i've kept things as 'friendship' like as possible. together in groups. talking about school. avoiding the massive elephant in the room.

seems he's finally backed me into a corner.

"are you going to— pick that up?" he says slowly, eyeing the quill on the ground.

"hm?" i say, shaking myself out of my thoughts.  "oh— yeah," i gather myself, my cheeks heating up as i hop down off the chair, reaching down for the quill.

when i straighten up, draco's standing at the table beside me, leaning against it with his arms crossed. i nearly run into his chest as i turn around, and need to take a few steps back to amend that error.

"stop just— appearing like that," i huff, letting out a breath as i toss my books down onto the counter.

"sorry," he says, smirking over at me.

i narrow my eyes at him, smoothing down my uniform and moving towards the cauldron.

"you didn't have to come," i say, starting to prepare the ingredients.

he shrugs, moving beside me. he leans forward onto the table, propping his chin up in his hand. "i wanted to," he says simply, tilting his head as he looks up at me.

i meet his eyes, watching as his smile innocently widens. i fight to pull back mine, shoving a cutting board in his direction.

"you can start on dicing the root," i say in a flat tone, trying to not get caught up in his charming smile or endearing looks.

friends. until i'm sure i can trust him again. until every look we share doesn't sting in the back of my mind with memories of our past. until us being together isn't just to mask all of the crazy shit happening every where else.

i turn back to the cauldron, letting out a slow breath as i begin adding things in, watching him from my peripheral vision. he straightens, frowning slightly, but beginning to work silently nonetheless.