040| birthday present

2.3K 77 155
                                    

Trembling hands and heavy breaths, clouded mind and thundering heart, Draco clutches the edge of the marble counter until his knuckles turn white. Whilst a deep line draws itself in between his brows, he lets a long yet tremulous exhale fly past his lips as he closes his eyes, trying to get the pounding against his temple to cease.

It takes a few heartbeats before he can feel the coolness of the stone beneath the palms of his calloused hands. Before he can sense his head clearing up. Before he can finally breathe deeply, evenly, calmly.

"Draco?" The dulcet melody that is Kallista's voice is followed by three faint knocks on the door. "Can I come in?"

He doesn't respond as he opens his eyes, instantly facing his reflection—red-rimmed eyes, dishevelled hair, quivering lips. The door opens, and soon enough, blue meets silver through the mirror.

Her expression falls. "Oh, my love," she whispers, instantly shutting the door close as she strides towards him.

Draco whirls around the moment the distance between them closes. She throws her arms around his neck as he pulls her in by the waist, his grip so tight that he wonders how she manages to breathe.

It is when he is in her arms that he starts shaking again, uncontrollable tears streaming down his face, staining his usually cold façade with vulnerability he can only share with Kallista.

He refuses to let the sounds of his sobs fill the empty space of the room, but the agony in his chest is unbearable and his jaw hurts terribly because of how tight he keeps it.

This sudden sadness and cataclysmal anger stays hidden for only them to witness. Kallista strokes his hair—and his back, too, at times—tenderly and coaxing him through this wave of molten rage. He keeps her close whilst fighting those inner battles that wound him to this unwanted affliction—he doesn't want to let go.

"Don't go," he rasps in the crook of her neck once tears cease to stain his crimson cheeks. Once his breathing isn't staggered and bated.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispers back, before pulling away—but just enough to stare into his teary eyes. She gently cradles his face, brushing away the fresh tears and brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. He gets lost in her soft features, admiring how careful she is being right now. "What happened?"

He swallows the lump in his throat. "You weren't there when I woke up, and I—It was so—Real—And you—"

"Another nightmare?" She asks when he can't manage to finish the sentence.

Draco only nods in response, and Kallista doesn't push him to talk. She grazes his under eye with the pad of her thumb, collecting another teardrop whilst ever so slightly frowning.

"You're okay," she murmurs softly. A wave of peace and serenity washes over his being at the sound of those heartening words.

"I'm okay," he echoes quietly, leaning the small of his back against the counter, keeping his witch close to his chest. He clears his throat before inquiring,"Where were you?"

Her sapphire gaze follows her movements as she threads her fingers through Draco's hair. Relief washes over his being as he feels his heartbeat fall in sync with hers. "I just wanted to let you sleep for a bit," she explains. "I went to grab coffee with your mother."

Last night, they had spent an extra hour stargazing. Through minutes of silence, they talked about constellations, laughed about ancient memories, teased each other by threatening to push the other off the rooftop.

Last night, they were Kallista and Draco. Last night, they were home.

And she wanted Draco to rest some more this morning before waking him up to head into work.

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS | D.MWhere stories live. Discover now