Aphrodite | Draco Malfoy x Reader

d4 | emotional breakdown

WARNING: This chapter contains dark themes.

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d 4

e m o t i o n a l
b r e a k d o w n

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Hatred took over my brains. My brains reminded me how much I hated the girl underneath me and generated the desire of choking the life out of her. I followed my instinct as my brains instructed my muscles to constrict around her thin fragile neck.

Her eyes were widened, showing panic and shock. Her mouth was opened, struggling desperately for air. Despite the effort she made, oxygen couldn't go through the trachea to her lungs. Her body squirmed and her legs kicked ferociously. However, none of the struggles helped. My grip around her neck didn't loosen a bit even when I found her eyelids began fluttering and her face started turning purple. My lips twitched into an evil smile at the amusing sight. Mercy had been completely engulfed by hatred.

Her lips moved, though no sound came out of her throat. I was trying to figure out what she was trying to say when my body was like struck by a thunder of magic. Strength was violently taken away from my muscles and my brains were forcibly shut down. The last thing I saw was she successfully inhaled a mouthful of air.

"Fuck you," I spat in despite at the image in the mirror of my dressing table.

The man on the other side of the mirror looked unhealthy. His blond hair strands hung loosely over his pale, grey sunken face which was covered with stubble. Dark circles were found under his hollow eyes due to severe insomnia. His cheeks were sunken due to weight loss. It'd been almost a month since last time the man had slept and eat like a normal person.

But he deserved it. He'd almost killed the girl I cared so much.

I'd almost killed the girl I was in love with.

Self-loath and guilty rushed over me, again and again, every day. I really wanted to kill myself. It's a pity that I was such a coward who's too scared to kill himself. Every day I locked myself inside the room, refused to see anyone. Mother was worried, and she made sure the house-elves to bring me meals three times a day. However, the food was nearly untouched every time because I deserved it. Feeling a bit of hunger wasn't a big deal, compared to what I had done. A murderer didn't deserve happiness and love. A murder deserved punishments for what he'd done.

My fist of fury collided with the mirror, the blond man image got broken along with the glass and shattered into pieces to the ground. Dark red liquid dyed my hand red, pain and numbness started coming to my sense as the warm blood streamed along the curves of my cold hands and fingers. When it reached the tips of my relaxed fingers, it formed multiple droplets and reached the floor, making a hypnotic steady sound similar to the clock ticking sound. The tingling sensation in my knuckles was soothing. The dripping sound of blood was relaxing.

Staring at the pool of redness on the wooden floor, a "tap tap" noise covered up the song of blood. I searched for the source of noise and found an owl standing outside the window. I wasn't in the mood to deal with people or work. I tried to scare it away by hitting hard on the glass dividing us, but it didn't fly away. Therefore, I decided to open the window to directly force it to leave me alone. It's a dumb choice indeed. The owl swiftly fluttered into my room through the gap and dropped down the letter on my desk. I wondered who's owl so annoyingly clever.

My gaze followed the owl and landed on the letter. I couldn't recognize the handwriting on the envelope nor the bird which had perched on my bookshelf. But whoever had written this letter shouldn't be any stranger, as I saw they addressed me as "Draco" on the envelope. I picked up the letter with my non-bloody hand and opened the letter curiously:

Draco, do you still have the coordinate I gave you last time? The one where Y/N got imprisoned last time. Y/N is now in Afghanistan and is looking for the terrorists' place. If you have the information, please let me know. P.S. I don't know what's happened between the two of you, I hope you reconcile with each other soon. She's in Afghanistan because of you. Mrs. Y/L/N

A feeling of anxiety and distress started taking over my mind after I finished reading the letter. What is she doing in Afghanistan again? And why is it because of me? I healed my right hand hastily and started looking through my room, trying to find a certain piece of paper. I remembered I didn't throw it away. However, as things had been thrown and broken everywhere (and not letting house-elves to clean) throughout the emo month, my room was a mess. I pointed my wand at a random direction and muttered a spell.

"Accio Mrs. Y/N's note,"

A piece of crumpled paper flew out of the pocket of a shirt which was laid on top of the pile of clothing on the floor. The small paper landed on my once injured hand. I probably hadn't taken it out from the shirt before the elves launder it - the numbers on the paper had turned blurry. It's fortunate that the words were still recognizable. I took out a piece of wrinkled parchment under the broken lamp and found my quill and ink at the corner of my room. I smoothed the paper out before I scribbled the information Mrs. Y/N was asking for:

(30.1269270, 64.5811444)

The owl eagerly took my reply away as soon as I placed my quill down. It couldn't wait to bring the letter to its owner.

Why is she in Afghanistan again? And why is it because of me?

These questions had been haunting me since then. But a voice in my head told me that the answers to these questions weren't important anymore.

"You don't even have the ability to control yourself. What makes you think you have the ability to care about her? You're only a murderer."

When I realized what I was doing, the nib of the quill had been stabbed into my left forearm, right on top of the no longer conspicuous scar of the Dark Mark, drawing blood from the veins. Blood started gushing out like a little fountain. The pain was relaxing. My eyelids felt droopy. Dizziness soon took away my conscious.

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A/N: This fic is getting darker. I never planned to make Draco hurt himself like that, but he just couldn't bear the idea of almost killing his beloved one.