𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 [𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

DRACO couldn't sleep.

The dim light brewing from behind the curtains suggested that it was about six o'clock. He expected to hear the early bird chirping and feel the chill once the curtains began to sway. Nothing had happened yet.

He'd been awake all night, tossing and turning uncomfortably as he was unable to switch off his mind and fall asleep. His body was exhausted, and it begged his mind to let go—to shut off, but it wouldn't.

This had been going on for the past week, ever since the healers had tried to send him back to his coma—which had failed miserably. Now his mind won't let him simply rest, all too afraid that if he let himself shut off, he would never wake up again—or worse, he could wake but never move again.

The thought sent shivers down his spine as he clutched the covers tighter, his balled fists somehow finding comfort in how the sheets nestled under his broad grip. His toe began to poke out as he pulled the blanket closer to his chest.

Irritated at this; he grunted.

He lifted his head slightly, only to glance down at his feet, before rolling his eyes and pulling his knees closer to his chest. He let his eyes flutter shut as he sighed, the warmth of his breath on his pillow backtracking and hitting his face.

If you fall asleep, you will never wake up. Get up! Get up now! Don't fall asleep.

Draco's eyes flashed open, sucking in a sharp breath as his insides coiled. He immediately twisted to lie flat on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling. He flopped his arms onto the bed irritably.

"I'm never going to sleep, am I?" He muttered to himself. He'd be surprised if someone answered him.

He let out a long sigh and closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to let them rest. He needed that much. His body stilled as he relaxed; he no longer felt cold. For the first time tonight—or rather this morning—he felt comfortable. Surely he'd be allowed sleep in tomorrow if he explained his restless night.

Clitter, clatter, clitter, clatter!

He opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side, glaring at the closed door until it took offense. He brought his hands up to cover his face and groaned. He was so tired, but he couldn't sleep. Why wouldn't his brain just shut up and let him sleep? And if not only his brain, the noises around him too.

The constant clattering footsteps in the corridor only grew louder, like whoever was out there was running. He wondered if he was the only one who could hear them, if somebody else was awake too.

Maybe they would pass—he hoped they would.

He waited impatiently as he drummed his fingers on his bed, letting out another longing and aggravated sigh. He counted the seconds until the irritating noise disappeared.

One,

He slowly felt his eyelids closing again.

Two,

His head sunk back into his pillow as he relaxed his hands on the bed.

Three,

The unsettling footsteps had slowed down. He rejoiced; he was finally going to get some peace and quiet and hopefully fall asleep. Suddenly he heard the sound of the door handle turning, and then his door creaked.

Draco immediately tipped his chin to his chest, rubbing his eyes with his fingers before stifling a yawn behind one of his hands. He went rigid at the sight of a dark shadow poking in; he could only make out the figure after the door closed behind it.