𝑴𝑨𝑰𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑭𝑰𝑨 (18+) 𝐃.𝐌.

< 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 3

The first thing Charlene did when she woke up was pull her wrists, only to feel them jerking back.

Her eyes fluttered open, and when she pulled her wrist again, she felt the way it wouldn't budge, and then her sleepy eyes fell onto the rope tied around it. It wasn't tight, and it was only wrapped around one wrist, but she still began to grow confused.

Until she saw Draco leaning on the dresser, watching her with stone cold eyes.

He looked at her like she wasn't the girl he just made love too. He looked at her with pain, and anger. Draco wanted answers, and he wanted them now— but that didn't mean he'd hurt her like he did last time. For now, he just didn't want her to run away. So last night, after she shut her mouth and didn't say anything, he leaned down and kissed her, distracting her so he could drive a syringe into a neck. He'd slipped a shirt onto her and a pair of his sweatpants, and put her in a guest bedroom. He didn't even sleep, just sat and thought.

His mind was running wild at the moment. Draco didn't know what to think about the fact that Charlene was wearing his mothers pajama pants when in his eyes, she killed herself.

"Mave."

Charlene lowered her eyes, ignoring the pain in her chest. She tried to ignore the way she hated that now, it was back to how it was before. Hated the way he was looking at her like he didn't just hold her in his arms, and make all of her worried disappear.

So quietly he could hardly hear it, she parted her mouth to say, "Malfoy."

Draco clenched his jaw, and gritted his teeth. "Tell me what I need to know."

"I—I can't," her voice broke, and she couldn't imagine how he must feel.

Draco cared about Charlene deeply, but his mother was the most important person in his life after going through so much abuse from Lucius.

He exhaled a breath, "Please. She's my mother. And you were wearing her fucking clothes. Mave, tell me what's going on."

She shook her head, and this only made him angrier. It made him want to shake the answers out of her, made him practically go insane inside of his head. He balled up his fists, and reached into his pocket to take out his gun.

He fired it into the headboard next to her, and although she flinched, she didn't say anything, just squeezed her eyes shut.

"Tell me if she's alive."

Again, her mouth sealed.

So he fired a bullet into the headboard again, and this time, it was so close to her face that she feel it fly past her.

"Fucking say something!" He shouted at her, and her eyes opened, glossy and weary. "Anything! Tell me if she's alive!"

When she didn't answer, he fired the gun three more times around her body, one of them in the pillow next to her. Her body shook, ears ringing as she watched the bullets meet there target.

"Draco," her lower lip quivered. "Stop it."

His chest rose and fell, and when he connected eyes with her, he pulled his hand upwards and put the gun to his head,

And his finger pressed onto the trigger so gently.

Charlene broke into sobs, telling him to stop, but he wouldn't budge. He watched her break, watched her reach her breaking point, and then watched her search for an inhaler that was on the nightstand. She couldn't stop crying as he wheeled the barrel around and then popped it back in, playing roulette with himself.

She couldn't even get a pump of her inhaler in before he pulled the trigger, no bullet coming out except Charlene's screamed leaving her mouth.

"She's alive," she whimpered, "She's— alive—" another sob left her lips, and she thought she would've died.

She thought she would've died by the time draco put the gun back in his pocket, but she didn't.

Nothing happened to her.

Nothing happened except Draco, putting that image inside of her head, and left her to curl up in the guest bed by herself and cry her heart out. Her inhaler was gripped in her other hand, the other wrist still being tied up.

Draco had left the room as soon as the words left her mouth, and when they did, something inside of his mind shattered.

—

"Bristol."

Draco looked up from the kitchen table, watching Mattheo throw a folder in front of him. "Excuse me?"

"She's in Bristol. Your mother." Mattheo stated, watching Draco open the folder.

He looked at all of the documents, all of the pictures from the security footage of her walking around in the town, helping out charities and sitting at the cafe with a cup in her hand. His eyes glossed over, but he pushed it down. He couldn't understand why his mother would do this to him.

He needed her, and instead, she faked her death.

He could still feel the same feeling he felt when he grasped onto her suicide letter.

"And then," Mattheo brought up a couple of other pictures, sliding it over to Draco. "Here's this. You should see it."

Draco's heart plummeted to his stomach.

Charlene was running from somebody in one picture, a bloody sheet wrapped around her body, and then in another picture, she was talking to his mom while crying. And then another, his mom was helping Charlene into her apartment, some things in her hand.

Charlene had only ran into Draco's mother while trying to get back to him.

He'd realized that now, and then her words repeated in his head. 'I can't.' She couldn't tell him that his mother was alive and he'd realized why. It all hit his heart at the same time, and now he was running out of the kitchen to get to her guest bedroom.

Her bedroom was on the first floor, so he didn't have to go up the stairs, he just ran down the hallway and opened her door.

More tears welled up in his eyes.

The window was open, and the rope around her wrist was cut with her teeth, and she left. She left out of the window, and this time, she wouldn't be stupid and get herself caught. Not by Harry, and she wouldn't come back for Draco.

And then something even harder hit his chest when he'd remembered that he finished inside of her, and he never got to give her a potion.

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[there's gonna be a time jump in the next chapter, be prepared]

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