Entrapment | Draco Malfoy

Chapter 58

*Mature Content Warning*

I straightened out my dark green tennis skirt and made sure my black button up was tucked away properly. My face was blank as I continued to stroke on the foundation that I knew would soon cover the grave look on my face as my cheeks flushed and the life was drained from my body.

"Hey," Draco knocked on the open door lightly with his knuckles before he entered the bathroom. I stole a glance at him in the mirror just as he was walking in gracefully. His suit was pressed against his buff chest and I felt my tears start to pool as I looked at him in the reflection— prepared to do his job, just like he always was.

I knew about the secret meetings he had been attending all week while he thought I was sleeping. Letting the Dark Lord see how he was willing to put me on the line for him. Lying about his allegiances. Pretending that he had no real attachment to me and that he just sees me as a silly and foolish girl who will never stand a chance. Using occlumency to shut away every memory we have had together since he decided he wanted me again. I'd really be fooled and think it were all true too, if he didn't soften in front of me like crunchy snow in the hot sun.

"Don't cry, baby." He whispered before he turned me around with his hands on my hips and lifted me on to the counter. "It's going to be okay." He pressed his hand against the back of my neck and another on the small of my back. "Why are you putting on makeup anyway? You don't need it." He soothed in my ear, his embrace making my breathing slow immediately.

"I- I thought it would help." I sniffled. All I've done today is cry. It's getting old.

"Shhh, let's wipe it off." He whispered quietly next to my ear. He stood up straight in front of me and grabbed one of my many wake up wipes from the collection that sat on the corner of the counter. He took his time in wiping it off, not wasting a second as he took in every last inch of my sun kissed face underneath. "You look so beautiful without that shit. I want to see your perfect face while you're slaying the darkest wizard of all time, not your layers of makeup." He chuckled in an attempt to make a joke of it. Fresh tears rolled down my face and his hands found my cheeks, while he rubbed under my eyes with his thumbs.

"Talk to me, sunshine." He whispered, leaning his own forehead against mine. "Let me know you're going to be okay. I'm worried." He admitted. I linked my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me between my legs. My fingers found themselves tugging at his hair on the back of his head, and I let out a broken sob as I laid my cheek against his shoulder.

"When do you have to go?" I changed the subject. He wrapped his arms around my back and I pulled him even closer as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

"Too soon." He whispered back.

"What time is it?" I asked him. My stomach started to churn in a negative way as soon as I started thinking about how close we really were to my final hours.

"Around 9 o' clock. Maybe a little after." He shrugged while the words came out mumbled. Maybe it's from how tightly my arms were wrapped around his neck.

"Do me a favor. Like a big favor." I whispered as I pulled away and put my forehead against his again. "Read my thoughts when we're there. Right before it happens. I want to show you everything going through my mind when..." I cut myself off.

"You're going to come back to me, Emelia. It doesn't end tonight." He shook his head, but I nodded against his forehead at the same time. "No, it doesn't, love. Listen to me." His voice raised a few octaves and I could tell he was getting angry with me. He never did have a good temper.

"You are not dying. You are not fucking leaving me! Quit saying you are!" His chest heaved a little heavier and he scowled at me deeply while he held on to my tearstained cheeks. "I have been putting up with this bullshit for days. I've let you have your moments. I won't sit here and say that I haven't been trying to savor every minute incase something happens to you. To us. Because I have. I have taken in every last detail that I can remember of you through 17 years in the last week. I have run through every single possibility while I watch you sit in the garden to read, or when I have to really notice how the sun reflects off of your skin when it peaks through my bedroom— our bedroom windows in the morning," he corrects himself, and my heart fluttered a little more, "or the way you look at me in every possible mood just in case I never get to see you make that face again." He took a breath when his tangent finished.