it's okay to stare at me, i understand🖤

31

POV: Mira

"Well?" I ask, moving towards him. He stands facing away from me over the balcony. His body is slightly hunched over, both of his hands lay on the railing spread apart.

"We need to work together," he says without moving. He can't be serious. I ignore his statement. I pace slowly in a circle.

"Why'd you make me come here?" I ask after a few moments of too long of silence.

"You came on your own. I didn't make you, so you tell me. Why are you here?" he asks. He's so good at this. Malfoy always somehow makes it seem like he's in control, regardless of the situation: he obviously knows why I'm here.

"Because I want to know."

"Know what, Aenigma? Being vague won't get you anywhere."

"Stop playing games, Malfoy, just tell me how you knew," I say, annoyed. He doesn't respond, just shifts on his feet. His hands still rest on the railing. I stand a few feet behind him, looking at his back for a moment. His fingers rest still on the wood: he isn't nervous. I conversely find my hands wet and wipe them on my gown. "Why are you facing away from me?" I ask, breaking the silence once again.

"Because."

"No seriously." I laugh. My stomach twists. Something isn't right. His hands slowly move together, forcing him to stand up straighter against the rail. He exhales deeply and turns around. He looks over my left shoulder into the darkness of the tower and doesn't meet my gaze.

"Thank you. I do like seeing who I'm talking to." I say sarcastically. We stand in silence still.

"So?" I ask. He steps backward into the rail. I notice his suit jacket and dress robes lie on the floor to my left. Malfoy unbuttons the first two buttons of his collared shirt. His hair flops to one side. It's so close to pure white. He, in general, looks so pale so his hair color doesn't really help. He has no color to his face, especially now. I'm unsure if it's the lighting from the moon or if he's just nervous or afraid.

"Malfoy," I say. This is a little annoying. He's just blankly staring at me. "What the fuck is wrong with you." Nothing. No response. I walk closer to him. 

"What? Cat finally got your tongue?" I ask. I am genuinely concerned. I wonder if something happened to the Dark Lord. He mumbles something interrupting my thought. "What?" 

"I am uncomfortable by your presence," he states, "back up a little." He's certainly being genuine. I can tell because he's not insulting me...he almost sounded nice.

"No," I say, slowly closing the gap between us, "I don't think I will."

"Mira-" he begins.

"Tell me how you knew," I demand. I'm going to take full advantage of his discomfort, which I still don't understand the reasoning behind.

"Stop," he says, "Mira, just listen to me. I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just back up and turn around." He almost emphasizes those last words. 

"How do I know you're not going to hurt me?" I'm extremely skeptical at this point. This conversation must be the most odd that we've had. 

"I had the chance before, I'm not going to now," he sighs, shaking his head. He's definitely not wrong. I comply with his request and turn on my heel to face the stairs I entered from.

"You have me intrigued. Now tell me how you knew," I say, crossing my arms. He breathes deeply. I hear him sit on the floor and I mimic the action. I allow my back to slouch for comfort. I can feel the coldness of the floor underneath the gown. The moonlight now hits the crystals I'm wearing and illuminates the room slightly. It's pretty how the light spots dance around the walls of the tower around us.