✓ | RECKLESS AND BRAVE | Draco Malfoy

B O N U S | 2

IT WAS THE FIFTH TIME THAT WEEK DRACO WOKE TESSA UP AGAIN. It was a few minutes past four in the morning when Tessa felt the bed shake and Draco's arms tremble around her. She woke up with a jolt when she heard soft sobs, spinning in his arms to find her mate crying in his sleep.

     "Draco," she called out to him, gently shaking his shoulder. "Draco, wake up."

     His eyes were screwed shut, eyebrows knitted together as he gritted out a breath in pain. His arms wounded tighter around Tessa, mumbling incoherent words under his breath.

     Tessa struggled to push an arm off her as she switched on the lamp on the bedside table. "Draco," she tried again, using her elbow to force herself at a sitting position. "Love, you need to wake up."

     With a gasp, Draco's eyes flew open to reveal the silver depths of them — still haunted with shadows of the memories from his past. He scoured the room in panic and alarm, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every quickened breath. And when he met Tessa's worried gaze, it was as though every single fear in his body vanished into relief.

     "Braveheart," he whispered, sitting up to wrap his arms around her at once.

     "Ssh," she said comfortingly, holding him against her as she rocked him gently. "I'm here," she reminded him for the hundredth time, stroking his hair in a manner she knew he loved. "I'm right here, there's nothing to worry about."

     "I was so scared," Draco mumbled, lips on her neck as he continued to cling onto her. "I thought . . . that you'd . . . "

"I know," she merely said, continuing to stroke his hair and murmur soothingly to him. "I know, my love, I know."

It's been a week since the Battle of Hogwarts — a week since they both started the process of healing and finding their way to happiness again. The events of the war hit Draco harder than Tessa had expected, but not once has she made him felt that it was wrong for him to feel fear and anxiety. He'd nearly lost his parents that day, he'd lost Crabbe, he'd lost several friends and classmates, he'd nearly lost his own life — and most of what his nightmares comprised of: he had truly lost Tessa, only to have her back in his arms in exchanged for her mother's life.

The healers in St. Mungo's called it post-traumatic stress disorder.

     They also confirmed the fact that Draco wasn't the only one suffering from it, but Tessa as well. But she doesn't seem to accept it, because she's been too busy making sure Draco and Harry are both doing all right to grieve over the deaths of her own loved ones.

     Once again, she still hasn't realized that there was a time for her to stop protecting others and allow others to protect her.

     Draco's choked sob cut through her thoughts, and when he pulled away from her, she found him gazing down at the Dark Mark hidden by the sleeve on his arm. It was something that'd always bothered him — he's refused to wear anything outside of the house that doesn't cover it.

     A strange idea suddenly crossed her mind, and Tessa reached for her wand on the bedside table. She cupped his face with her free hand, brushing a thumb over the curve of his cheekbone. "Do you trust me?" she asked softly.

Draco stopped fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt, glancing up to meet her eyes. "Of course," he said breathlessly. "You don't even have to ask."

"Close your eyes." Tessa leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead, brushing her mouth over each eyelid, then to his nose, and lastly on his lips. She could smell the familiar scent of citrus and the cold mountain air on him, it made her feel nostalgic over their Hogwarts years.