the girl who lost it all [d.m]

forty six: formosus

formosus: handsome, beautiful, fair

———

ELARA was picking Asphodel flowers when the storm hit.

It came out of nowhere. One second, the sky had been bright blue and clear and the next, a mass of dark clouds had gathered overhead and thunder began rumbling in the distance.

The wind picked up, the smell of earth rising into the air and Elara glanced up as the breeze tugged at the sundress she was wearing.

Plucking another flower, she tossed it into the basket and then straightened, squinting up at the sky as her hair whipped into her face.

Great, she thought with a sigh. I won't be able to pick Dittany for another week.

Because when it rained, the herbs got drenched—and Dittany was so temperamental that it took a whole seven days for them to dry. No more, no less.

But they needed it. The forest around them had grown sparse over the past few months and Neville had suggested rationing their supplies so they could give the greenery around them a chance to regrow—but just two days ago, another raid had proved unsuccessful and Jasper had come back with a broken arm, George with a gaping wound in his side.

Elara knew how valuable Dittany was and abandoned her Asphodel hunting, instead hurrying deeper into the woods behind the safehouse. She was safe here—the Apparition Wards extended further in this direction than they did at the front of this house—and the sudden cold wind made her shiver as she ducked under a branch, heading for the clearing she knew held a few Dittany stalks.

It had been four days since she'd last seen Draco. Since they'd argued in Orion's library, since he'd practically thrown his feelings right out in front of her.

Because I would cut myself open and let myself bleed to death if it meant you stayed safe. Because I'd give up my sight so that you could keep yours.

Her breathing stuttered even at just the memory. She tried to focus on placing one foot in front of the other, leaves crunching underneath. She reached the clearing—but suddenly didn't feel like she was really there. All she could see in front her was Draco in that library, his hair tousled from where he'd torn his hands through it, that wild panic in his eyes—pure terror.

For her. Even her friends—who cared about her endlessly—didn't get that look in their eye. Like they would give up their own soul to make sure she could keep hers.

Elara shook her head, feeling her head spin. She didn't know how she'd slipped into something so natural with him so fast—how her first instinct when she'd seen him walk into the library had been to wrap her arms around him and pull him close. How he'd released a long, quivering breath and buried his face in her hair.