TWELVE | sad, beautiful, tragic

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Sleeping isn't so easy when the thought of a serial killer keeps haunting her mind. Cloaked, strong, and tall. If she's next, there's no way she'd be able to fight him. This person killed five grown men, slaughtered them without showing mercy. Did this person kill Asher, too? Who's going to be next?

She wakes up with a soft gasp, rubbing her eyes. Blair could've seen it coming. The nightmares are back. No potion or spell will stop this.

Draco's sleep is light. He kisses her on her forehead when he feels her move, pulling her closer. He mumbles some things she doesn't understand. But this feels good to Blair— it's reassuring to be here with him, be safe in his arms.

Blair's distracts herself by thinking about last night, her stomach fluttering. She wanders her eyes over his face, lowering to the rest of him and stopping at the Mark on his arm. What is it?

She knows it hurts him, and she knows that it looks like the old Death Eater mark— but that's about it. Asking Draco about it seems scary, even if she wants to. What if he tells her something that will change the way she views him?

Draco starts waking up, too, smiling at the sight of her. "Good morning." He whispers, pressing a kiss to her hair. Blair forgets all about her worries, laughing softly. "Good morning."

"You feel so nice and warm. I could stay here forever." Draco sighs, running his hands up and down her body, feeling her curves under his palms. "Too bad, I don't want to miss breakfast." Blair grins. Draco gasps as if he's offended, groaning into her neck and kissing her there.

He pulls her underwear down her legs, turning Blair into a nervous mess right there and then. "Now that you mention it, I am kind of hungry." He says, lowering his sweatpants and boxers, until he can take himself out.

"Really..?" Blair chuckles, draping her leg over his waist. Draco hums, pushing himself inside of her. He moves gently and slowly, starting his early morning by imagining the rest of his future with her.

_______________________

When Blair enters the Great Hall, it's hard for her not to smile. Draco gave her his black and gray striped sweater to wear, and even though it's too large for her, she adores it. It smells like him.

Blair walks up to Emris eating by herself at the Slytherin table, who turns at once. "And that's exactly what Saturdays are for— sweats and sweaters. Thank you for reminding me I'm not the only one." Emris sighs with a grin.

Blair sits down in front of her. Emris looks at her best friend, narrowing her eyes. "But I've never seen that sweater before, it's quite large," She points out. Blair doesn't say anything, but just smiles. "Oh, Lord. It's his, isn't it?"

Blair quickly takes a look around to check if Atlas isn't anywhere, then turns back to Em and nods. "Did something special happen?" Emris asks, leaning her chin on her hand.

"Why do you ask?" Blair says, stocking her plate with food. A long night and morning have made her quite hungry. "I don't know— you have this.. this glow about you. You look happy, B," Emris says, her eyes gleaming. "Did you two do it?"

"Well, yeah." Blair chuckles, her face burning hot.

"I knew it!" Emris squeals, covering her mouth with her hand. "I know you too well. You are no longer the 'anti-love' Blair that I know."

"What? I was never anti-love. I just tried to keep myself from doing it because I knew it'd never work. But this time— it's like it's inevitable. He is too stubborn to understand to my worries. Sometimes I believe him to be delusional, but I don't want to continue to burst his bubble either." She says.

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