Poison Ivy || Draco Malfoy

51 - Lonely Views

A/N: can I just take a moment to say how much I appreciate you guys who are following this story as I write; - I hope you realise I literally write for you, and I absolutely live for your comments. I feel like you get me and my story and the saddest thing about finishing this book will be saying goodbye to you all.

Basically, I'm just trying to say I love you 💕

*****

I didn't sleep; I couldn't sleep.

Instead I lay morosely on my bed, my eyes looking at the window; never leaving the spot where I knew his penthouse was. I just stared; wondering what he was doing and already missing him with every inch of my being.

It felt like he had died; the knowledge that he would if he ever came back into my life made him as good as dead to me.

I just prayed with everything inside of me that he would somehow find happiness, that he would at least come to some sort of peace with the sadness and torment that had been with him since childhood.

I buried my head in the sheets and deeply inhaled; sighing contently as I located his scent. I couldn't stop thinking about what we had just shared; his last wonderful gift of showing me that sex could in fact be beautiful.

I replayed every wonderful second of it in my mind; knowing that I would for a long time, if not, forever.

He'd shown me what is was like to be truly loved, and I felt a sudden horrifying grief when I realised that I probably wouldn't love anyone like I loved him.

Not probably - could never.

I found myself sobbing again, weeping softly into the sheets as I clutched my arms around my stomach; trying to stem the agonising pain which consumed me.

I felt so broken and alone. I wished I didn't feel this way.

I wished I still had Draco.

*****

I spent the rest of the day morosely walking around the studio, not knowing what to do with myself, constantly touching things that I knew he had touched.

I kept glancing up out of the window, looking to the penthouse and thinking about him.

And I thought; I thought about what he would want me to do, and I knew he would never want me to be like this.

So, taking a deep breath and gathering my strength, I set up an easel and began to draw.

I found myself drawing him. I couldn't help it.

I drew him with the same ferocity I drew him that day in court. I drew him from my own memory and I found it surprisingly easy to do so.

Parchment after parchment fell down by my feet as I brought to life his every expression that had been burned into my mind.

I realised I probably knew his face better than he did; I knew exactly the way his pale, pointed features pinched whenever he was agitated, and the way his jaw set fiercely if something angered him - the tiny muscle pulsing fiercely that I always wanted to calm with a kiss.

And now I finally knew what it was like to see him come undone; to witness the complete desire swirling in his eyes as he looked down at me; wanting me.

I drew and I drew.

I drew until the sun set back down behind the city's horizon, leaving me bathed in an ethereal glow from the night lights of London.

It was about that point, when my hand was raw and blistered, that I heard a frantic knocking at the studio door.

I froze.

"Who is it?" I called, my trembling voice betraying me.

No answer.

But the knocking continued with an alarming urgency.

I should never have answered the door; never have been too curious about who was on the other side.

But I did.

*****

Draco sat morosely at his window, looking achingly down upon the spot to where her studio lay.

He couldn't stop thinking about her; no matter what he did, nothing could prevent his thoughts from going to her.

Yet he didn't want to stop; never wanted to forget her. What they had shared in the studio had been utterly mind blowing. Draco had never experienced anything like it before, and he'd had a lot of sex in his time.

The way her body had responded to him had driven him absolutely wild. He'd never known anyone to want him so much, to desire him in the way she did. The longing and need in her eyes alone had sent him over the edge.

It simply broke him that he'd never be able to share that with her again.

He let out a heavy, wearied sigh; rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. He hadn't slept since he left her; couldn't bring himself to crawl into an empty bed without her.

Instead he'd just sat by the window, his eyes lingering on the studio and hating that he could no longer be with her.

He couldn't even bring himself to put any music on; terrified that it'd just make him feel more bereft.

The only thing he could do was pray with everything he had that she was going be okay, that she would end up leading the happy and peaceful life that she deserved.

As night time fell again, Draco stood up and grabbed his coat. He couldn't bear to be in the penthouse any longer. It was just too sad without her.

He walked and he walked; aimlessly with no direction. And then, quite suddenly, he found himself outside the studio.

He looked at it sadly, longing to go in, and wondering what exactly would happen if he did.

Would he have time to hold her one last time in his arms before death got to him? Or would his heart just stop beating the moment his foot went over the threshold?

For a mad moment he seriously considered doing it, preferring the idea of death than living any longer with this unbearable sadness.

But then, he realised, he couldn't do that to Ivy; it wouldn't be fair to put a death on her conscience like that.

So, sighing heavily, he turned on the spot and walked back away, nearly bumping into someone in the process.

If Draco had not been so consumed in his grief, he may have paid more attention to the stranger he had almost knocked over.

If he had looked at this man more carefully, he would have recognised who he was and been able to put a stop to what was about to happen next.

But as it turned out, Draco hadn't; instead continuing his journey home - none the wiser - as Ivy was in her studio, opening the door to the visitor.

She realised, too late, the mistake she had made, and instantly tried to slam it back in his face.

But the visitor was too strong and forced his way in, slamming the door back shut behind him.

And from inside came a terrible crashing sound and the muffled cry of a frightened woman.

"Percy, no! Stop, please stop! Somebody, help me, please!"

But sadly, no one did.

******