Desired | Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, 18+

69

Mature content ahead.

I will literally cry if you guys don't comment and vote on this chapter. I am so so nervous. I haven't been able to safe read this properly because I am literally so nervous.

also, if you're my sister, please go away and don't read this chapter :) I want to be able to look you in the eyes on Christmas.

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Isla tilted her head back, downing the bottle she'd sipped on for the past two hours.

Her spine crashed against the frame of the sofa she was sitting in front of, staring blankly into the fire as it sparked. Tiny flames slightly curled up over the wood she'd blazed up.

It was in the middle of spring, and there was no need to start a fire. The house was warmed up enough as it was — yet she started one every day. She liked it. It felt nice, warm, and homely when she did.

Her father used to do the same thing. He used to light the fireplace up even in the summers. He said he enjoyed the smell of it, the smoke of the wood as it flamed, and the sound of the sparks as they mirrored.

She liked it too, and it seemed to her like Theodore and Draco didn't mind.

Theo had asked her why she did that. He nestled up to her on the couch one night, and he stayed with her as she watched it burn. At the same time, Draco grew a bit nervous around the flames.

He didn't say why, and she didn't ask. She knew she wouldn't get much of an answer anyway.

So she sat there, with her head against the seat of the couch, her knees dragged up to her chest on the floor. The bottle was still in her hand, and she closed her eyes. Breathing out in the moment of peace she got.

Everything had been happening so fast around them. She had so much to think about, so much she needed to work through. Still, everything she did was keep pushing it away.

She continued to bury herself in other matters, not to manage the ones she truly needed to handle.

Isla exposed herself to Draco. She revealed the truth of her being a Weasley, and he wanted to kill her, then he left. He left her for a whole month, and she never processed it, because when he got back — she was thrown into the madness of Azkaban, and then she was struck by a curse that hit her so hard that she couldn't do anything but faint.

The second she woke up, Leo left, and now — now there she was, with a bottle of alcohol in her hand, in nothing but Theo's t-shirt and underwear as usual.

She didn't have time to process one single thing. Didn't want to. She felt like she wasn't ready to let reality in just yet, and deal with the after-effects of what had happened.

She knew that she and Draco needed to have a conversation. They needed to speak about what she'd been holding in for so long, and even if he'd carved the letter 'W' next to her name, she still felt like it should be addressed.

He'd been different around her the past couple of days.

Perhaps it was the fact that he had left her and Theodore in bed the night they slept next to each other, walked out as he woke up before them. Perhaps he was uncomfortable that she couldn't choose. Maybe he hated her for keeping them both close.

Perhaps he didn't want to do this anymore.

What Isla didn't know was the fact that Draco didn't know what to feel. He just felt for her. He didn't know what to think. All he could think about was her.