Evangeline Blackwood and the Lost Letter - draco malfoy

fifteen.

She was dreaming of light grey, glowing eyes, staring at her in the darkness. 

These eyes were very telling. They revealed their secrets to only a select few, and she was one of them. She was hypnotized, staring at them atop a black canvas, gazing into her soul in the dark. 

She heard the door open, someone crossing the room. 

The grey eyes were searching for something, looking straight at her but shifting back and forth, aching to find meaning. 

She felt cold fingertips brush hers.

Then the grey eyes morphed into blue ones and she awoke with a loud, strangled gasp. 

"Shhh," he murmured. The grey eyes were real this time, and they were still staring at her in the darkness, surrounded by a pale face and white hair. Draco was sitting on the edge of the bed, his wand out, prepared to heal her as he had done so many times now. 

She laid silently with her eyes closed, grimacing in pain when he started healing. The pain in her hand was nothing compared to the anguish in her mind, so she barely felt it at all. She did, however, feel his fingers massaging her palm, capable and caring. His touch felt extra tender that night, as if he was trying to piece her back together. She looked at his own hands, looking for signs of tremors. She saw none. Endurance, she supposed.

Soon he was standing up, having completed another round of healing successfully. He really had a knack for this, Evan thought. He could have been a doctor, in another life. They shared a meaningful look before he turned away, walking towards the door. She truly, with every fiber of her being, did not want him to leave. 

"Draco," she proclaimed into the darkness. He froze with the door open, his back to her, turning his head slightly to the side. It was an invitation for her to speak, but she was terrified, afraid of the chaos her words might ensue. He didn't turn to face her but this made it easier to make her request. Her voice had a few false starts before she let the small word out, one that would surely have a big impact. 

"Stay."

She saw him stiffen, even with his back turned. Her word hung in the air. He dropped his head a little, his shoulders slumping, but then raised his chin and stood up straight. 

"Sleep," he commanded firmly. His voice was reminiscent of the early days of her capture, laced with indifference. He walked through the door and shut it, making an impenetrable wall between them.

Evan did not sleep much afterwards. In the late hours of the night, she laid on her back staring at the ceiling, trying to riddle out her feelings, her emotions. She was embarrassed and annoyed with herself. She was cursing the Dark Lord for awakening these feelings in herself, for showing her the true memories that she may not have been aware of.

Could it really be true? Did she have feelings for her captor? This was stockholm syndrome, she was sure of it. She glared with fiery rage at the darkened ceiling as if it were Draco's face, hating him because she did not hate him.

She was resolving herself to simply murder him, to solve her problem, when the door opened. An hour had passed and Draco was back. She didn't react to his presence, even when he grabbed her hand and inspected it for tremors. Evan knew that her hand was not twitching, just wavering a little in his. She did not need to be healed and she hoped that he knew this.

He seemed to agree because he dropped her hand, letting it fall back down onto the mattress. Evan closed her eyes, glaring at the back of her own eyelids.

The bed shifted and it was not Evangeline who shifted it. The other side of the king bed sunk in and she immediately snapped her eyes open and sat up halfway, looking at Draco in horror as he climbed into the bed beside her. She did a double take, her eyes fluttering and her lips parting in a gasp.

"Just this once," he murmured, his voice barely audible above Evan's own heartbeat, pounding in her ears.

She wanted to take back her request for him to stay, as she had changed her mind. She was still sitting up, looking down at him in anguish, but the back of his blonde head was already resting on the pillow beside her, his long body tucked under the comforter. He laid stiffly, watching many facial expressions cross her face.

She went though the stages of grief. Denial: she would not let him sleep beside her; she would make him leave. Anger: hot rage burned inside her cheeks at his audacity. Bargaining: she would beg him to leave, by any means, to save her from damning her own soul. Depression: she had let this happen, she was a monster, falling for another monster. Acceptance: she laid her head back down on the pillow.

She laid on her side, staring at him. After a moment, Draco turned to face her and she sucked in an audible breath. She scowled at him and he scowled back. But soon, she was lost in the grey and her face fell. She blinked hard, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. His face fell too, in a look of far-off wonderment. There was at least an entire yard of space between their faces, but it may as well have been a nanometer for all of the distance it provided.

His body was so close, so warm beneath the cover, and she could feel the heat radiate across her bare legs. She acknowledged the stirring this time, her lower body clenching, and she made no effort to ignore it. He saw this shift in her eyes.

"Go to sleep, Evangeline," he whispered huskily. She fluttered her eyelids and then let them close, but within a moment they were open again, looking at his eyes that had not left her. A little quirk at the corner of his mouth released some of the tension in his face and he appeared amused. "If you're just going to stare at me all night, I'm going to leave."

"You're one to talk," she whispered as he stared back at her, her voice sounding parched and gravely. He chuckled and she faltered, not remembering a single time that she had ever heard this sound from him.

He rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, placing his hands behind his head. Evan noticed that for the first time, he was not wearing his black suit. He must have planned upon staying with her that night because he had dressed himself in a comfortable black long-sleeved shirt and linen pants, just barely peaking out from under the blankets. Evan remained still, looking at his side profile with her brows knitted in confusion.

He sighed, feeling her eyes on his cheek. "I promised not to stun you, but don't tempt me," Draco said in reply to her unrelenting gaze. He turned his face and all breath escaped her lungs at the sight of him: his hair was damp and his face flushed and clean. His eyes were lighthearted and amused. She had never seen him look quite like this, and it took her completely by surprise. "Go to sleep," Draco whispered, his lips barely parting as they formed the words. She nodded a little in shock.

Evan closed her eyes, but she knew there was no way she would relax enough to rest. Her body was tensed up, risen upwards in anxiety. She didn't want to breathe too loudly or she may disturb him.

The bed moved and her eyes immediately snapped open. He was turning on his side to face her again, but cautiously. After a few minutes of raging eye contact, she saw a white hand lift from beneath the blanket, coming towards her face.

She flinched and his hand froze in midair. Then the hand continued on its journey until the back of it was touching her cheek, the molecules themselves just barely making contact. She started breathing heavily, hating the electric feel of his skin. She cringed, letting out a hard breath. He didn't stop, though, and soon his fingertips were caressing her cheekbone in airy strokes. She hated him touching her.

But then, she broke. Her eyes closed and she let out a long sigh. She could feel her eyes roll back, her body releasing it's tension. She refused to open her eyes, afraid they would be too telling. Soon his palm was pressing into her cheek, his fingertips grazing the soft spot beneath her ear. Heat filled her face and she shivered. When she felt his nails drag gently through her scalp, pushing her hair back from her ear, she pressed her cheek into his touch and gripped the back of his hand, sighing in a rythmic pattern and holding his touch to her skin. She heard his breath hitch in response.

Her hatred for him may have still been there, but it was buried deep down under a haze of relaxation and tingles. She fell asleep this way, with Draco's fingers stroking behind her ear, gripping his hand like a lifeline.