Poison Ivy || Draco Malfoy

45 - Home Sweet Home

"Why purple?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, trying not squirm as the feel of his long, slender fingers tickled the underside of my foot in his grip, "I just like the colour."

Draco's face was pinched in concentration as he moved onto my next toe, and expertly flicked the brush of polish across the nail.

We were sat on the sofa, whiling away the afternoon listening to one of Draco's records; Classical, he called it. Whatever it was, I liked it. It was soothing and just what I needed.

"Is this how you usually spend Sundays?" I asked, drumming my fingers against the cushion I was cradling to my chest.

"I can honestly say that I've never painted a toenail in my life before now, Parkinson," Draco drawled as he finished off my first foot, taking a moment to admire his artwork.

"Nice job," I said, leaning forward to see for myself. "Anyway, I meant do you sit and listen to this classical music all day?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged as he reached for my other foot, "I find it relaxes me when I'm feeling... agitated."

His eyes flicked upwards, meeting mine, and I felt tiny thrills zip through my stomach; our breakfast adventure still fresh on my mind.

"Drawing relaxes me," I confessed, praying that the heat I could feel in my face wasn't showing, "I'd sit down to put pencil to paper and then find that hours have passed by without my knowledge."

"I know that feeling," he chuckled as he painted my other foot.

Once he had finished, he gently blew across my toes, causing me to release an involuntarily shiver.

"Have you ever thought about joining the pedicure industry?" I asked once I had admired the impressive work he had done on my feet.

"And touch people's feet?" Draco visibly shuddered, "I think not, Parkinson."

"You just touched mine!" I laughed, sitting upright and wriggling my freshly painted toes in front of me delightedly.

"Different," he said, his silver eyes glinting across at me, "there's not a single part of you I wouldn't want to touch."

I knew then that there was no way my cheeks weren't flaming red as I furiously blushed and looked away.

"Come here," he growled, reaching across to curl his fingers around my wrists as he tugged me towards him, pulling me onto his lap.

His eyes swirled down at me as he caught my lips in his, instantly igniting that deep flame of desire in the depths of my stomach, causing my toes to curl up in utter longing.

"The varnish!" I gasped, immediately breaking the kiss.

Although I couldn't honestly give a toss about my toes; I was just afraid of getting so lost in him again and having Percy return inside my head.

And the way Draco looked at me told me that he knew what I was thinking too.

"I'd never let him hurt you again," he murmured fiercely in my ear as he wrapped his arms tight around me. "You do know that, don't you, Ivy? I'll kill him if he ever so much as touches you."

I said nothing, but just nodded. Draco scooted down to a lying position, coaxing me down with him so that I lay face down on top of him; nuzzling my head on his chest.

We lay like that for a while, just letting the music wash over us as our hearts beat steadily against one another. I closed my eyes in bliss as his hands soothingly stroked my hair and back; his fingers never seeming to tire of touching me.

"I like lazy days with you," I sighed, trying to ignore the sad tugging of my heart. "I could lay like this forever."

"You and me both, Parkinson," he chuckled softly, tightening his arms around me as he kissed the top of my head.

In the end, hunger got the better of us, and with the cupboards empty, we had to reluctantly throw on some proper clothes and traipse our way into the cold December night air to find food.

"What is it with the Muggles obsession about celebrating Christmas so sodding early?" Draco sneered disdainfully as we dodged yet another drunken Christmas party toppling out of a pub onto the pavement in front of us.

"I think it's called getting into the festive sprit or something," I shrugged, as Draco hurriedly guided us further up the street, keen to get away from the raucous laughter.

"Who celebrates that shit anyway?" He muttered grouchily. "I never did; seems like little point to me."

"Didn't your parents ever decorate the house and give you presents?" I asked, dumbfounded at the idea that anyone wouldn't want to celebrate Christmas.

"I didn't need presents," Draco shrugged, "if I ever wanted something then my father would just go and buy it."

"But... not even a Christmas tree?"

"We had a whole meadow of fucking trees in the grounds. Why on earth would we want to drag one inside?"

"But that's so sad," I said, thinking of the Weasley's Christmases and then suddenly feeling desolate at the thought that not only would I never spend another one with them, but that I'd never get to experience it with Draco, either.

We came to a sudden halt; Draco looking down at me with a strange expression in his eyes. I shivered against the cold biting wind and suddenly wished we were back on the sofa in the penthouse.

"The sooner we get something to eat," he murmured huskily, pulling me into his arms as he peppered warm, light kisses on the frozen skin of my face, "the sooner we can get back home."

I couldn't explain how much those words both thrilled me and broke me; how it caused my heart to fill with joy and yet at the same time, shatter it into a million pieces.

As I lay in his arms that night, I realised I'd never felt so at home before in my life.

It made me cry.

*****