Unhealthy [A Draco Malfoy Fanfic]

rumors?

 I woke up from the best sleep I had had in years. Draco's hoodie replaced the empty feeling of loneliness that I slept with every day. I sat up and practically had to force myself to take his sweater off. I had never hated my uniform more. It felt cold, uncomfortable, and like a stranger's clothing.

The walk down to breakfast was just last night playing on repeat in my head. The only words I heard out of the crowded corridor were, "It's pathetic, isn't it? She probably thinks he fancies her, but Draco just wants to get with her. All the guys talk about her like that; once one has his way with her, they'll all realize shes still as pathetic as she used to be."

I stopped and felt my heart start pounding so hard it deafened everything else. I slowly turned my head in the direction of gossip and saw Pansy Parkinson surrounded by five girls. One was staring straight at me and whispering to another girl.I snapped my head back straight and started speed walking to the dining hall. Who else thought this? Was this true? I sat down and put my head in my hands.

It took me ten minutes to muster up the courage and walk over to the Slytherin table.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked nervously. Draco turned to look at me almost in disgust.

We walked out into the entrance hall.

"Are you just trying to get with me?" I sputtered out. He chuckled in a teasing way.

"Who isn't?" He answered with a smirk.

"So that's it? You just wanted to get with me? Are you serious? Can you be any more selfish?" I said with anger dissolving my eyes.

His face straightened up, and he looked down at me. "What else did you expect?" Draco turned around and stalked back to the dining hall. I swear I heard a scoff when he turned.

Of course. I mean, I had liked him for so long, and now he starts to be interested in me? How did I not see it? He was just like Bryan, but his methods worked on me.

I spent the rest of the day in pure rage. Of course, I wasn't going to meet Draco today, or hopefully ever again. He must've not understood that because whenever he had the chance, he'd glue his eyes to me.

The anger only stopped before bed. Before I laid down, I stared at the sweatshirt he had given me. I chucked it under the bed, deciding to give it back to him tomorrow.

Where the anger had been all day, the sadness and emptiness set in. I didn't want this. I didn't like the attention and lustful looks I was getting. I only wanted him. Even then, after how he'd acted, I still wanted him, and I still used the past two nights as comfort before bed. His sweatshirt somehow ended up in my arms throughout the night, both filling and deepening the loneliness.