Cursed | Draco Malfoy, 18+

T h i r t y - e i g h t

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'' I wish I had the chance to meet you earlier in life before everything got so complicated.''

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Her eyes peeled open by the bright sky, glimmering through the window as she stretched her arms out. The room she had snuck inside last night was freezing, and her chin tucked underneath the covers even more.

She looked beside her, hoping to get a glimpse of the blonde boy she fell asleep next to but nothing.

His side of the bed was empty.

Amelie flew up, sitting straight as she stretched her spine, looking around in the largened room, still nothing — Draco was nowhere to be found.

The disappointment of him leaving her, when the only reason she stayed was for him, made her more than dismayed.

Her head fell back to the fluffy pillow as dust swirled around her, and she huffed, looking over the nightstand on her side of the bed only to jolt back up.

There was a tray placed on it, with a clear, tiny vase and a pink tulip — a glass of apple juice and a note.

Her fingers stroked the sheet as she propped herself up against the headboard, her eyes fell upon the letter,

''

I'm sorry that I had to leave before you woke up. It didn't feel right waking you.

I have matters to attend to this morning, but I will be back in the afternoon.

Mother is making breakfast downstairs.

Look in the closet. I got you something.

And I hope you will be keeping what you told me last night.

I don't like sleeping alone anymore either.

See you soon.

— D.M.

''

Amelie's thumb stroked over her bottom lip as she felt a smile shyly sneak upon her, and she couldn't believe that even in his absence — he made her smile in a way no one had done before.

Her gaze flickered to the massive closet built into the grey painted wall. It was huge. She didn't quite grasp how he could own that many pieces of the same suit.

Her feet scored cold over the floor as she made her way over to the cabinet, her hands slid one of the doors open, and all she watched hanging was his black suits. The tips of her fingers stroked over the soft fabric, and she smiled at the scent of it.

Everything in his room scented as he did.

Amelie hesitated for a brief moment to whether she was going to open the other door too. She didn't know what he meant by the note he left her — that he had gotten her something, and that frightened her.

Amelie was never the one to care for gifts and things. Her father was a very wealthy man, and if she wished — she could buy the things she pleased for herself; but instead, she loved spoiling others with love and affection.

She let the other door open, and she stepped back — to her surprise, all her clothes were there, in his wardrobe, every piece of her wearing was structured after coloring.