Desired | Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, 18+

08

This chapter contains violent actions. Please read with caution.

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Isla's eyes widened as she gulped.

''Malfoy—'' Isla breathed, confused in the situation he dragged her into, ''I don't know what you're talking about—''

''Don't lie to me, and don't speak my fucking name,'' Draco snapped, his knuckles struck the stone-covered wall beside her head, ''Don't fucking lie to me. You told Nott that I was your other choice, is that true?''

Isla's brows knitted, and her breath slightly hitched. She had no clue what the blond was talking about — or more what he accused her of. She didn't tell anyone, and especially not Theodore.

''I didn't—''

''Yeah?'' Draco's face was close to hers. Her lips parted, staring blankly at him, ''Then why would he say that? I didn't open that stupid letter for a reason, and that's because I don't want to know.''

''I never said anything,'' Isla sounded honest, and she looked more than truthful, but Malfoy didn't cave. If anything, he loathed a falsifier.

''Then how would he know?'' He spat, his teeth gritted, ''How the fuck would he know?''

Isla swallowed the hesitation as she felt it lingering, ''I don't—'' Her mind immediately clouded by the flicker of memory in her head, and she hushed down.

It was painfully sharp images of Theodore's arms around her, and the thought of how much alcohol she'd consumed that night made her nauseous. She remembered how he placed her in her bed and how he folded the covers over her cold body.

She did tell him.

Isla remembered that in the most intoxicated state she'd ever found herself in, she spilled one of her significant secrets.

''Damn it,'' She cursed underneath her breath, but loud enough for Draco to catch it. The grey eyes narrowed in hers, ''I didn't think. I was drunk, and I was almost asleep—''

''So you did tell him?'' He hissed, and the tone in his voice ruptured throughout the tiny closet, ''Who else knows?''

''You didn't even look at your letter, Malfoy.'' Isla sought to speak back, ''How do you even know if it's true. I was out of it, and I don't even remember telling him about—''

''Do you take me for a Goddamn fool?'' His hand landed on her waist, and he pinned her to that wall, ''Do you think I'm an idiot?''

Isla gasped at the sudden move. Draco pressed her against the cold wall roughly. His nose trailed near the tender skin of her neck provokingly.

''I'm not fucking stupid, Clarke. I know that if there were anyone else who got me, they would've shown it by now, but no one has even come close, so that leaves you.'' He spoke lowly against her.

Shivers iced a path down her spine as he dove back up, facing her fully.

''I have a reputation to think about, Clarke, and to have you running around, spreading those nasty rumors isn't cutting it for me.'' He said, still lowly, ''I need you to know your fucking place.''

Draco let of her waist, and she was letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

''You're nothing compared to me,'' He growled, and the spite shot daggers through her, ''I'm a bloody Malfoy, and you...'' He chuckled, ''You're a worthless half-blood. Now, keep that thing to yourself, and don't tell another soul about it.''