BETWEEN REVENGE AND LOVE

59

Friday 01/12/1995

Freeing my face from my untamed hair, I sit up, starting to realise my circumstances.

It's Draco's room, Draco's bed I woke up in. It's cold, there is no blanket, anywhere. I think I can see it on the floor, somewhere random to my left in the dark. The sheets on the bed are messy too, as if someone had held a wrestling match on this mattress. Rather unlikely, I'd say. More likely would be...

"Fuck, did we fuck?!"

He looks calm, comfortable, whilst I am churned, upset. His small tired eyes get even smaller as he laughs out loud.

"Probably not."

"Probably?"

Still laughing he looks around like I did before.

"Either we didn't or you find me a reason why we would have bothered putting our clothes back on after."

"Well, you're missing a shoe, so."

"And you're the one talking? You're missing both."

"Oh shit."

Shivering I pull my legs tight to my stiff body.

"Why am I so hungover again?" I ask, recognising the pain that pulls through my skull.

"Porcelain cups are innocent," he sighs, struggling up, "whisky is not."

"Oh right, those damn cups."

He walks around the bed, over to my side, to me. On the way, he loses his shirt, which makes me think of his suit jacket. I wonder if it's still where he left it on the ground or if the room of requirement swallowed it by now.

"Now tell me," he asks, bending down to me as I've sunken back onto my back exhaustedly, "what exactly would have been the problem if we did?"

"Did what?"

"Fuck."

"Ending up here, was never the plan, fucked or not. Besides, I don't have anything figured out and I doubt here's where I'll find my insights."

"Don't leave." Cold hands cup my face. "You don't have to have anything figured out to know make-up-sex is a great thing."

With that, he's on top of me, pushing me into the mattress lightly.

"Relax with me, yes?"

"Why?"

"Because I want you."

His smile is pert, but his voice perfectly soft.

"How late is it anyway?"

His face now closer to mine he sweet-talks, "don't worry about that, love."

"Stop," I argue, cursing the fucking smile on my fucking lips.

"Or what?" He teases, and I curse the fucking smile on his fucking lips too.

Right until they meet the skin on my neck, my shoulders. Fucking hell.

Just like that, I abandon my thoughts, surrender to the feelings that flood me, to him.

Why would I want to stop now when I never truly did before?

It's bullshit, all bullshit.

His hands move down my body fast and I wonder how long it's been since he last touched me.

Too long, that's for sure.

Despite the cold, I lose all my clothes in a matter of what feels like seconds. Can't find the space in my fuzzy brain to bother. It's not cold, not anymore. It's only him, everywhere. It's his tongue in my mouth and his hand between my legs, it's his hot breath against my stomach and thighs.