Chosen || Draco Malfoy

45 - Dear Diary

He wakes before she does, and he finds himself just gazing at the perfection of her profile as small snores emit from her semi parted lips.

His heart flutters quite unexpectedly and he cannot deny the gentle warmth that seeps through him at the feel of her naked body tangled against his: legs entwined with legs, breasts squashed up against his chest, morning wood pressing into her hip.

When she eventually opens her eyes, they take a little while to focus on him, and his lips tug helplessly up at the corners at the smile that spreads across her face.

And they just lie there for a moment, holding one another's gaze, not saying a word, not needing to.

He lifts a hand and slowly trails his fingers down her arm, entwining them with her own fingers as he reaches them, their palms pressing heatedly together.

"So," he eventually drawls, a smirk twitching at his lips, "I finally get the honour of waking up in Cecilia Diggory's bedroom."

She scrunches up her nose at once, eyes flashing up at him. "Last night only happened because I was lonely and upset on my birthday."

But he knows she doesn't mean it because she makes no attempt to extract herself from him.

"And yet," he drawls, dipping his head to kiss the tip of her nose, "it keeps happening, so quit pretending you don't want me as much as I want you. Fuck, you must feel how much I want you already, surely?"

He juts his hip forward, his erection getting harder as it presses further against her hot skin. He doesn't miss the catch of her breath or the darkening of her eyes. He tries to resist the urge to smirk but somehow he just can't help himself.

"I need the bathroom," she says, rolling out of his embrace.

Disappointment floods him as he finds his arms suddenly quite empty. He watches her through half lidded eyes as she unabashedly hops out of bed and walks slinkily over to her bedroom door where she pulls down from the back of it a silk navy kimono, wrapping it around her naked body.

Blowing him a kiss, she slips out through the door, leaving Draco very much alone. He looks around Cecilia Diggory's bedroom, wondering quite where to start.

His eyes drift over to the mountain of soft toys in the corner, all kept in immaculate pristine condition as though she washes them on a regular basis. He wonders if this is normal for a seventeen year old to keep, and he thinks of his own spartan bedroom which holds the bare minimal of what he requires, all traces of childhood gone.

A bedroom, in his opinion, is for sleeping and fucking. He can't understand why she wants to fill hers with all this sentimental crap. He'd had his very own playroom as a child, of course, but when he outgrew that, the toys just disappeared, gone without another thought. It is now his own personal study which homes a desk and a small library of ancient yet rare dusty tomes, and rows of encyclopaedias of deep wizardry knowledge.

Everything about Cecilia's room, however, screams 'princess' - from the diamond encrusted vanity dresser (complete with lit up glamour mirror), to the walk in wardrobe which is no doubt lined with clothes that has maxed out Daddy's credit card.

She was clearly spoilt growing up, just like himself, with parents throwing everything at their only child to make up for the fact that they couldn't be fucked to procure siblings for them to battle out favouritism with and learn from a young age that sometimes life just isn't fucking fair.

Sighing, his eyes settle on her bedside table and he suddenly feels the urge to pry. Quietly, he reaches over and pulls open the drawer, finding a fluffy pink notebook inside. He carefully draws it out, eyes widening when he sees she has written on the first page in great big loopy handwriting: Random Thoughts 1993/'94