He's attractive. Very attractive. Sometimes, she has to bite her tongue from saying anything to her mother because she knows she'll get kicked out. But she can't help the way she feels towards Him. She doesn't expect him to watch her, all the time...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He'd had him by his throat, Paxtons body tied to a chair.
Draco Malfoy was a busy man, but not too busy to notice somebody following him every where he went. It'd been a week since he killed Faith Annalise, and he felt no amount of guilt. She killed his son. And the grief that came with it, was taking a toll on him that nothing had before.
Now, his hand squeezed harder, Paxton straining in his grasp. He knew this was a bad idea, knew he wouldn't be able to kill Draco, but he wanted to try for Cordelia.
Draco held his grip on his throat, tightly. "Who sent you."
Paxton coughed, eyes watering with how much he couldn't breathe. When Draco gave him a chance to speak, he coughed and breathed in deeply. "I— I can't tell you."
Draco breathed out, calmly. "Okay."
Paxton furrowed his eyebrows, and watched Draco grab something he couldn't quite get a good look at. His chest ached, scared for his life. This was a bad idea. Water kept dripping on his face, he had no clue where he was at.
Now, the knife was evident in his hands as he turned around, and Paxtons breath hitched in his throat. His heart was in his stomach, and he began to think that his entire plan was failing.
"So," Draco's voice echoed through the empty, dark room. "Are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way."
"Please," Paxton nearly started begging, "I'll leave you alone. You'll never see me again, I promise—"
The knife was at his throat, Draco's hand itching to drive it in through his flesh. "Tell me who sent you, or I'll kill you."
"It's— it's a girl," paxton panted, breathing heavily. "You can't hurt her. She— she just had a baby—"
Draco chaffed the knife up, forcing his jaw to go up with it, his eyes piercing into Paxtons. "Who. Sent. You."
Paxton shook his head, sweat and water now dripping down his face. He was panicking, panicking for Cordelia and his own life. And at the first feeling of the knife being dug into his throat, he started to cry, blurting her name in a frantic sob.
Draco stopped short at hearing her name, feeling something bubble in his chest. Why does that name make his heart stutter? Why does it feel like it's the answer to his brain hurting? His chest aching?
The knife had dropped, and Draco left Paxton in the room by himself, leaving the warehouse. Why was he having a hard time believing that she's the one who sent Paxton to kill him?
He'd given it a moment of thought, and tried to leave it alone, but that failed, very quickly.
—
He could see her, and his chest started to pound.
Draco sat at the very back of the cafe, watching Cordelia Annalise sit at a table with an older women. Despite how beautiful she looked, all he looked at her with is hatred. Hatred because she tried to have him killed.
Her newborn was in a little car seat in a chair right next to her, and although he couldn't see what the baby looked liked, he hoped that her heart wouldn't actually stop beating.
Because not a moment later, she'd started choking, and gripped the table for her life.
The kiwi juice he slipped into her smoothie was kicking in, and now, everybody around her was rushing to get an epipen.
He exited the cafe, half hoping she survived, half hoping she didn't.
—
"Cordelia."
Her eyes stirred, mouth going dry. Her eyes were so droopy she couldn't keep them open, and when her boss knocked on her door, she pulled her head up and raised a thumbs up.
He gave her a confused look, "You can't be sleeping on the job. Either go home, or wake up. I'm sorry, but I don't pay my employees to sleep."
She nodded, rubbing her face. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."
He gave her a curt nod, and almost walked out, but then stepped back in. "You are aware of the new owner of the company, correct?"
Her eyes shot wide, hair still in a sloppy bun. "What? I thought you owned the company—"
"I got offered a lot of money for it," he explained to her, softly. "I'm still your boss, but.. technically, hes over me as well which means he's both of our bosses."
Sleepily, she nodded, and curled her lip up in a snarl as she realized she'd been asleep for the past hour. The door to her office shut, and she looked at her phone, to see that Joyce had texted her to meet her at the cafe when she got off work.
She decided it would be best to just go home, so she made her way to her bosses office after gathering her stuff, that being just her phone and some papers.
When she knocked, she realized the door was unlocked, so hesitantly, she opened it.
Both of their mouths nearly dropped open.
Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, a cup of whiskey in his hands and a fitted suit on his defined body. And he found it hard to take his eyes off hers, how her little tight black dress fit her perfectly, how her big brown eyes stared up at him, how she halted her every movement at his posture.
He's supposed to be dead.
That's the only that rung in her head, and her feet backed up, almost tripping as she ran out of that building. She'd started walking to the cafe, calling Joyce on her way there.
"Hey, babe! Are you on your way here?" Joyce's sweet voice rung in her ears, nearly making her want to cry.
She'd thought her mother got closure with Draco being dead, but he wasn't even close. "Yes— I am. I'll be there in a few minutes.."
Shuffling could be heard, "Are you okay? You sound like you're going to cry."
Her voice dropped down, "He's not— he's not dead," she stammered, her heart picking up. Her chest felt like it was going to ache for days, and the clouds started to cover the sky, looking like it was going to rain.
The cafe was across the street, and Joyce was saying something, right as she was trying to cross the street.
A hand slid across her waist, and pulled her back onto the sidewalk as a car honked and drove by. She'd realized she was about to walk in front of a car, and she started breathing heavily again, clutching her chest.
The hand slid back from her, and when she watched her new boss walk away, her heart picked up as well.
