BETWEEN REVENGE AND LOVE

36

Sunday, 06/10/1995

"Slept well, love?" Draco's voice drags me out of my sleep. 

His lips are the first thing I feel, on the bare skin of my neck. 

"Good morning," I mumble, sleepily, and a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. 

The pain is the second thing I feel, it's as if everything hurts. My abdomen, my legs. Sore, aching. 

My eyes will stay closed for now, I assure the voice inside me that is bleating about wanting more sleep and how tired it is, in an effort to soothe it.

More kisses meet my skin and the official third thing I feel today is how my blanket gets pulled off me slightly. Unfortunately, I don't like that. Because the voice and I concur; very tired, more sleep! To give up our blanket, we agree, is out of the question.

"Please no," I groan, eyes still closed, my hands reach for the blanket blindly, "It's so cold." 

Yes, not to disregard it, it is indeed rather cold in here, especially when you've only just been under a snug, warming blanket.

"You'll be warm in a minute I promise." 

I, much to the frustration of the grumbling tiredness within me, renege on my promise by opening my eyes, which are immediately fastened on his. How couldn't they? He's on top of me, one of his hands braced right next to my head, the other one by now gripping my waist. 

On top of me, or to be precise, all over me.

Now, slowly, the ambiguous meaning between his words seeps through to me through my grogginess. The smile returns to my lips, playing around them in genuine contentment, as I let my hand caress through his hair gently. 

I wait patiently but vainly for him to say or do something. He merely keeps his role as an observer, taking in my face attentively.

Maybe he expects me to say something, I realize. Or not? What's he thinking at this very moment? I'd really like to know. 

"Draco." His name rolls over my lips easily, quiet like a sigh. "You know," I start, "sounds like a good offer, really, totally great offer." 

I let my fingertips stroke downwards, through his hair, over the side of his face, following his jawline, "But, I'm still in pain. I doubt I could do anything at all right now besides lying here completely comatose." 

"Right, how could I forget about that whole thing with that fucking bastard." 

"Stop," I demand pushing him off me before sitting up. Or trying to. Failing miserably in my attempt, I fall back onto the bed. 

And he, what does he do? He laughs gloatingly at me. Not funny. Finally, a painfully high count of attempts later, I manage to sit up. 

"What?" My arms cross in front of my chest while my reproachful gaze drills into his, "so funny, isn't it?" I'm not going to let that sit with me, so I'm not disinclined at all to stubbornly play the offended.  

"Of course it is," he grins, reaching for my hand and intertwining our fingers after pulling me against his chest tightly.

Firmly he wraps his arms around me, holding me as close as possible, "Stay. Just a little longer, please. Don't go yet." 

He murmurs it into my hair in his raspy morning voice. I know that he knows what he's doing. He knows that that's enough for me to reconsider all my life choices including if I'd want to get hot and heavy with him right now. 

I wouldn't, it would be stupid since I'm still aching immensely. But then again, what am I saying, of course, I want to. 

"Do you actually think I'd leave now? Go? I can't even walk," I mumble, partly complaining, partly joking. My head is whirling already. I'm currently certainly in no good condition. No self-control, no control at all.