Bruised & Broken // D.M.

Chapter 61

Sixty-one
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His trembling hands fiddled with the collar of his black button-down to adjust it. He stared at himself in the full-body mirror, combing the blonde strands back that fell out of place.

One last deep breath and his heavy steps made their way to the bottom of the stairs.

"You have turned into a handsome young man," his mother smiled, adjusting his collar, "she will forgive you- you'll see,"

Draco huffed out a laugh, "It's been 6 weeks, Mother- She won't be able to forgive me because her brother will murder me first,"

"If she is anything like her mother- she will forgive you," Narcissa said, her flat hands laid on his chest, smoothing the fabric.

"What do you mean?" Draco frowned.

"You need to go.." she smiled, stroking his cheek, "Don't forget her present," Narcissa added and walked away.

Draco checked the new watch his parents gave him for his birthday and hurried into the living room, grabbing a fist full of floo powder.

The second he stepped out of the fire again he felt his heartbeat in his ears and breathing quickening. A few steps into the room he saw her —outside with Daphne and Pansy.

Draco smiled to himself when he saw her holding her stomach and wiping away the tears in the corner of her eyes from the heavy laughing.

He hurried up the stairs, taking two at a time —avoiding Theodore who came out of his room the second he managed to slip through Amara's ajar door.

Her room was the complete opposite of the laughing girl that sat on the grass outside with her friends.

Her clothes were splayed over the floor and tissues laying everywhere. If Draco didn't know better he would have thought this was the room of someone else. The girl he knew was neat, especially with her clothes —always sorting everything by colour, never having one piece placed out of place.

However, this room was pure chaos, only a small fraction of how she lost herself because of him.

The ache in his chest made him want to scream but instead, he locked his emotions away, and hid them deep inside his mind like he was trained to do.

He can't feel, it only makes him vulnerable.

Small, light steps approached the room he was standing in, he knew who it was —he always knew.

Amara closed the door with a relieving sigh. She was doing better these past few days and was able to smile genuinely again.

However the second she stepped inside her room and closed the door she felt it. She felt his presence and smelled his cologne.

The ache was back like it never left and the tears began swelling up in her eyes again.

He left her again she thought until she saw the small pumpkin pastry on her bed.

Her trembling hands held the note attached to it,

Happy Birthday

That was it. No one signed it, no one even thought about explaining or apologising to her.

Amara jolted around when the floorboards behind her creaked and the pastry fell to the floor.

"Your favourite," was the first thing he said and it only made her angry. All the pain, all the tears he caused were now replaced with anger.

"They're not," Amara spat, "A lot has changed,"

"Let me explain," he sighed, closing the space between them.