mahogany ; d.m

47 - ache

CW: mature content
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From the doorway, Draco stepped out of the dark shadows that pervaded within his room. She hadn't seen him this close up for weeks, only having captured brief glimpses of him. She'd noticed how pale he had become, but seeing him up close was ghastly, frightening even.

His entire facade paled when his stormy eyes settled on her, widening within the deep purple shade that surrounded them. His jaw trembled slightly, before he clenched it firmly, pulling his entire expression to harden into reserve.

His eyes were suddenly blank, indifference woven within the silver of his irises.

"I—" she started. "I didn't know where else to go."

Her voice broke off at the end, tithers of emotion tearing through. Another two tears slipped from her eyes but she wiped at them rapidly with her sleeve.

There was no deliberation or forethought when he stood aside in the doorway for her to walk through. She could practically feel the despair radiating off of him. It made her feel uneasy.

She tread lightly, walking further into the room, feeling his eyes on her although she wasn't facing him. She stood vacantly, hesitant on what it was she had planned to do.

Truthfully, she just wanted to see him again. The yearning was consuming her, causing her to wither internally.

"What happened?" he asked, his tone clipped and emotionless, but containing hints of concern.

"They know. My friends—they know about you. What you did—to Ron," she replied.

The urge to cry made her feel nauseous.

He didn't say anything in response, only nodding his head sharply.

"We fought. I fear they hate me—"

"Why would they hate you? You've done nothing wrong," he sounded frustrated.

"Because I defended you. Because—" she began, but her throat caught when she attempted to continue.

He waited in silence.

"Because despite everything, I still want you," she forced the words out, tears falling down her face, dropping onto her shirt. "They figured it out—who I'd been with whenever they thought I was with Cedric. And now I think they may hate me."

She looked away from him, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment in order to suppress the tears from falling.

"They're pathetic," he said with a snarl.

"Are they? I mean maybe they're right. Ron nearly died, and meanwhile—meanwhile I was whoring around with you—"

The tears were falling more rapidly now, her throat continued to catch and her breathing became uncontrollable. His entire body stiffened.

"Is that what they said?" he asked, an icy solace weaving within his features.

"Ron did. Yeah. And to be quite honest I don't blame him," she cried.

Draco was like a statue, watching her breakdown in front of him. She wanted to reach for him, she wanted to be in his arms, in his safety, but couldn't.

She grew hysterical and restless, hyperventilating and crying between every shuddery breath she took. "They're right—they're right. It's my fault—I deserve it—I-I—"

"Athena—"

"Nott was right. They all are—I'm nothing but a selfish whore—"

"That's enough!" he spat, suddenly detaching from his unresponsive posture, edging closer to her. "Please calm down."