THIRTEEN | the fate of the world

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"Come back."
"Don't go to sleep like this."
"Please, just come back to me, love."
"We have to try to talk without yelling."
"I miss you here next to me."
"I can't sleep without you."
"Please."
"Blair.."
"I need you."
"I'm sorry."
"Just come here so I can explain."
"You're everything to me."
"Please come back."
"You can't just leave after saying that."

Her phone has been buzzing from the texts he sends her every two seconds since she left, but Blair doesn't even look at the device. It's nightfall already, she skipped dinner and didn't even leave her room. Blair knew that one desperate look from him in the Great Hall would be enough to have her melt and come running back into his arms.

The urge to read the texts is harder to resist than she imagined, so she's been trying to distract herself, without any luck. She just can't stop crying.

Blair wonders what's wrong with her. Why she isn't good enough to be loved by him. Why he made her feel as if she's everything to him.

She's still wearing his sweater, she couldn't find the strength to take it off. His smell still lingers on it. It's the only thing keeping her sane at the moment, she'd do anything for some distraction.

Her friends cross her mind, and she decides to visit the Slytherin common room to see them. That's the best she can do for now. But as Blair gets up, she has to press her hand to her wall because of how lightheaded she gets out of the sudden.

Before Blair can even sit back down, her vision goes black and she drops to the floor.

______________________

A voice starts to bring her back to consciousness, like waking up from a long dream. A nice voice— smooth, low, and familiar.

"Wake up, Blair. C'mon.."

Soft fingers stroke through her heart, caressing her lonely mind. She flutters her eyes, her eyelids heavy. Her head is pounding— like someone hit her with a rock on it. But as she starts to remember what happened, she knows that isn't the case.

Blair opens her eyes slowly, gasping at the sight of Draco sitting on the bed next to her.

It feels like she was just in her room five seconds ago and now she isn't. She's in Draco's room.

What the absolute fuck?

"How did I get here?" She asks him, moving away from him, as far as she can on that bed. "You passed out. I brought you here two hours ago." He lies.

There's a newspaper next to her, so she steals a glimpse at the front page.

"MASSACRE IN A MUGGLE VILLAGE"

Blair shivers, clenching her jaw. "Thank you, I'll go now." She says, quickly getting up from his bed. She'll stay here if she doesn't leave now— she can't let him think everything's fine.

Draco gets up too, blocking her way to the door. "Sit back down, Blair." He says in a low voice, the look on his face ice cold. "No, absolutely n—" Blair tries to say, but he cuts her off.

"What was that?" He frowns. "Sit down."

She sits back down on his bed without understanding why she's even listening. Draco comes to stand in front of her, placing his hand under her chin to make her look up at him. Blair feels that familiar warmth in her body, the one she has to fight so hard right now.

"Why haven't you been responding to my texts?" He asks her, playing with some strands of her hair, her face almost aligned with his crotch. "You don't deserve that." She says softly.

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