Such Sweet Sorrow

Thirty-Five

TW: S*XUAL CONTENT

Eloise Waldorf

A gentle push forward is what I felt. That's what woke me up. 

The light was barely filtering in through the windows, and the birds were distantly chirping as they too started to wake up. 

I was in Draco's room, as I didn't even have to open my eyes to be able to distinguish the softness of his sheets compared to mine. The air was rich with him. His pillows, his blankets, his jumper I was wearing. They were all saturated with a scent that always seemed to settle my nervous heart. 

I felt his sleepy presence behind me as I laid on my side. One of his arms, muscular and oh so wonderful to stare at, was dangled over my waist. There was a small gap between us though, which was odd, and already I found myself missing the warmth he provided when I was curled up against him. 

So I scooted back, nestling into the crook of his arm, careful to miss the bandages, and sinking my head into the pillow comfortably. 

A few moments later, as sleep started to approach again...

Another gentle push, and yet another gap. 

I lifted my head up now, curious as to what he was doing, and why he had to choose this hour of all hours to do it. Exhaustion still weighed heavy in my eyes, and my body was still riddled with fatigue. 

"What are you doing?" I whispered, my voice hoarse and thick with sleep. 

He only groaned, a grumpy sounding grumble, clearly trying to find sleep again as I was only a few minutes ago. 

"Knock if off, Malfoy. I'm freezing and you're warm." I huffed, scooting back over, but facing towards him this time in an attempt to warm myself up faster. 

Now he welcomed me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into his chest all while keeping his eyes closed and his expression sleep ridden. It wasn't until I was up close and personal with him again that I put two and two together. 

Is this why boys didn't like being the big spoon? 

Such a compromising position early in the morning was a recipe for disaster, especially for Draco Malfoy, who was insistent on the loss of my virginity being borderline spiritual, and not just a eagerly taken opportunity that stemmed from teenage hormones and a boy's tendency to be aroused first thing in the morning. 

It appears that I was testing his restraint in my sleep, causing him to form the gap so his thoughts wouldn't wander too far. 

Now I was wide awake. 

I bit my lip as I admired the peace in his face. No muscles tensed. No eyebrows knitted together. No hardened glare that was riddled with the weight of his fears and worries. For these few moments I allowed myself to forget all that had happened leading up to now, for the sake of my own sanity. I needed a moment of peace. A moment of calm. A moment of bliss. A moment of feeling alive, able to breathe, without the weight of impending doom resting on my chest. 

I brushed a few pieces of hair from in front of his eyes gently, letting my finger tips graze against his cheekbones, and down the sharpness of his jaw. 

"Malfoy--" He grumbled, shifting a bit with yet another grumpy look on his face. 

"What?" I asked with a soft laugh. 

"You called me Malfoy," his sleep thickened voice rumbled, "Am I in trouble...Waldorf?" 

I rolled my eyes, letting my hand slide down his arm that was wrapped around my waist.