Desired | Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, 18+

25

Scratching her knuckles against her eyes, she groaned, feeling as the aching pain in her body took over.

Isla didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to peel her eyes open to see the brightness the sun brought into her room. It was too early, and she couldn't comprehend one single thing.

All she knew was that she didn't want to wake up. She wanted to sleep, being so tired that her head barely had a chance to leave the pillow as she forced her palms into the mattress. Pushing her body up and she muttered to herself.

It took her moments. Silent, peaceful moments to actually peel her lashes wide and let the mellow light of her room embrace her. Isla huffed out a troublesome sigh. Her head tipped back as the sickly feeling rushed through her veins.

Her hand slammed over her mouth, crossing her legs as she bent forward over the edge of the bed, just in case she indeed needed to throw up.

It rocked within her, waves of unpleasant sickness grew, and she shifted, flinging her legs across the frame, and she put her head in between her knees.

Gasping as she caught herself without any clothes, only her bra, and her underwear as they barely hung onto her body. Isla jolted up, standing plain on two feet, and the frail feeling she carried poured off her.

Panic took its place, and she stumbled across the floor, into her bathroom, and with two hands on each side of the sink, she blankly stared at herself. Her mascara had smudged underneath her eyes, stains of tears and makeup smeared her cheeks — her hair in a tousled mess.

Diving into the shower, she got ready and quickly so — her body ached out of what she believed she'd done.

All Isla could remember was how Draco took her to bed, and then it turned dark for her. Her head clouded by the fight she had with Theodore and the way she'd been consuming alcohol for most of that night.

Grasping at the door handle, she tried to pry her door open without luck, and she brought her wand out, unlocking it with a mere spell.

Her feet hurt as she walked as rapidly as she possibly could through the hallways leading down to the Great Hall. She knew it to be time for breakfast and that her friends would most likely be waiting for her at their usual table.

A drift image of Mila, being heavily intoxicated, clocked her mind, and she couldn't help but smile shyly to herself.

Mila never let loose. She was constantly in a battle between being the proper girl and the one taking care of everyone else — the thought of her friend actually enjoying herself for a night caused her lips to curl.

Looking into the dining hall, her sight fell upon the two friends she aimed for, and she unhesitantly marched closer to them, striding up to their table and flopping down, forcibly on her chair.

Earning a groan for Mila as she did, ''Can you be careful?'' The girl grunted, annoyingly, ''Not everyone went to bed early.''

Isla pushed her lips into a firm line, furrowing her brows, ''Well, good morning to you too—'' She sought to speak, but the Ravenclaw merely shook her head, cupping her ears with her palms, and stared emptily down at the wooden table, ''Or not...''

''Moody,'' Leo snickered, shouldering Mila to the side. His face brightly lifted by the smirk he held, ''And to think you didn't listen to me yesterday when I told you not to drink that much.''

''Shut up,'' Mila muttered, her forehead dropped to the worn timber, and her arms framed her head, ''Just shut up, and leave me alone.''

Leo couldn't resist the chuckle he felt urging in the back of his throat as he arched his spine, pushing his lips onto her clothed shoulder, ''I'm only messing with you, darling.''