REQUIREMENTS | DRACO MALFOY

43 | A Letter From Draco

listen to the song. pls. it makes me happy :)

Love,

I almost hesitated writing such a word; mostly in fear that you would roll your eyes and throw this letter in the flames, or rip it to shreds at the thought of it.

But I cannot call you anything but Love.

I'm writing this in the middle of the night, stuck under a broom cupboard in the Manor you once said you 'didn't give a damn' about. Maybe you'd change your mind if you were here. 

My father would snatch this quill out of my hand if he saw I was penning this, since he never approves of sharing feelings, yet you are a feeling that much be shared. You have somehow possessed every fiber of my being, and losing you for—a time I can't bring myself to admit—has drained me.

But please listen.

Please.

You always encouraged me to read books, so I'm encouraging you to read this sappy letter till the very end. It's not an easy thing for me to do (which you'd know, considering it took me a year to admit I liked you), but it's been so long I've lost count of what's easy and what's hard.

Ever since that night you left me, I have found that you have stayed.

It sounds redundant, but it's true. You've stayed filling every spare space in my mind. Memories, dreams, thoughts, or ghosts that haunt me in the darkest of hours till I can't remember how to breathe.

But the memories are the worst.

I don't know if I can call them memories anymore; just painful fragments of the past.

I remember the feeling of your hair between my fingers, as you'd lie next to me on the mattress, going on about how you hate the civil complexities of the world. I remember the way you'd tap your chin when you were stressed, or bite your lip when you were angry. I remember the way the sunlight would dance upon your hair like wildfire, the way you would light up a room, the way your laughter was such a precious sound that I obsessed over making you laugh.

I remember the smirk on your lips when you'd donate precious moments of your time to stare at me.

I could never resist that.

Seeing your eyes.

I saw myself through you, and now that you're gone, I can't seem to figure out what to do with my life.  I suppose it's selfish of me, writing this letter and complaining about how you've left, as if it was without reason.

But it hurts, love.

It hurts like hell.

It hurts so bad, and no matter how many times I go into that blasted room of requirement, I never find you.

Instead I find that mirror.

That goddamn mirror.