𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 | Draco Malfoy

TWENTY-FIVE | if tomorrow starts without me

Draco wakes to find the other side of the bed empty.

He and Blair fell asleep together after she cried in his lap for a good while, but he didn't even realize he left the room unlocked.

Draco races out of bed and swiftly pulls his underwear and a pair of sweatpants back on, not even bothering to look for a shirt. His heart beats in his throat with fear as he pulls the door open and rushes into the hallway. "Blair, baby?"

the front door is locked she can't escape the front door is locked she can't escape the front door is locked she can't escape the front door is locked she can't escape the front door is locked she can't escape the front door is locked she can't escape The front door is locked she can't escape

Draco's downstairs in a few seconds, scanning every room until he hears a clattering sound coming from the kitchen. "BLAIR?!" He yells in a voice that fills itself with pure rage. How dare she leave without telling him? Why would she do that?

Blair turns as Draco enters the kitchen. She's sobbing as she is looking through some drawers. She holds a silver knife in one trembling hand.

Draco's eyes lower to the sharp object, and his heartbeat slows down to something colder, something more painful— calmly torturing him. "What.. what are you doing?" He asks in a low voice.

"Don't come closer.." Blair whispers, the knife pointed at the floor because she cannot find the strength to even hold it up at him.

"You were acting, right? You don't love me." Draco says, a lump forming in his throat.

Yes, she does— that's the whole problem. That's why she can't even point a fucking knife at him or attempt to run away. "I—I can't act as if this is healthy.. or normal. You're a murderer and you don't even care. You enjoy it!"

Draco clenches his jaw, taking a step closer to her. He knows and trusts with his entire soul that she won't hurt him. Blair isn't like him, Blair would never intentionally hurt someone. That's just who she is, and who he can't be.

"Drop the knife or you're going to be in even more trouble than you already are." Draco orders, his gray eyes colder than any kind of storm. When Blair doesn't listen, he walks towards her. "Drop it!"

When he comes too close, Blair drops the knife with a shattered sob leaving her mouth. Because she didn't bother to put on some pants beside her oversized shirt, the knife slices her right across her thigh before it clatters to the floor.

She winces in pain, both her and Draco's hands moving to the cut on her skin that starts leaking blood. Blair sinks to her knees, sniffing. "I-I'm sorry.." She sobs, her hands shaking.

Draco's too caught up in his disappointment and anger to respond to her regret. He lowers himself to his knees, snatching the nearest towel off the counter and pressing it into the cut. "Look what you've done to yourself. Are you pleased?"

Blair holds a bloody hand in front of her eyes, shaking her head, her sobs turning into soft hiccups. She doesn't want this— she doesn't want to defy him but has to deal with this horrible guilt if she doesn't. What does it make her to love a monster?

She cries harder when he presses the towel harder on the cut to stop the bleeding. Draco takes the knife that's caused all this damage off the floor, placing it on the counter above him, out of her reach.

He's torn between being mad at her for doing all of this, or kissing her tears away and taking her into his lap again to tell her it's gonna be alright.

But anger is easier. They're both familiar with it.

"Why did you do that, huh? Look where being stupid and disobedient gets you," He hisses. "I thought we were past all of this, Blair. I thought we've had enough fights over the past few days to make you understand why things have to be this way."