THE VISION THIEF - D. MALFOY

44. caught off gaurd

a.n - THIS IS MY FAVE CHAPTER LOL
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For a girl who never went to a single school dance, I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this.

When I reach the center of the dance floor, I feel a wave of nervousness crash into me with all the weight of the world. Not because I'm in a new environment. Not because I'm here to find my Dad. Not because this place is most likely crawling with bad guys, but because of one single boy. Draco Freaking Malfoy.

I slowly turn, facing an expectant and amused looking Malfoy. I suddenly realize, this was an awful idea. He seems to notice my regret too, because his proud smirk only grows more. I take a deep breathe, praying I watched enough television growing up, to figure out how this whole dancing thing works.

I swallow the lump in my throat as Malfoy slowly takes my hand. He gently pulls me towards his body. His arm suddenly wraps around the small of my back, pulling me so much closer to him, and I think the air has grown intensely thin, as his intoxicating scent surrounds me. His other arm holds onto my hand, and I hesitantly bring my left arm up to meet his shoulder. I gently rest it there, suddenly so afraid of how close we are. Everything about this is entirely new.

"Try not to look so miserable," Malfoy whispers into my ear. He pulls away with a wicked smirk and we begin dancing. I swear my heart could nearly leap out of my chest. I want to slap myself. I'm supposed to be focusing on other people, scanning the crowd while we dance. But how can I possibly focus on anyone else other than Draco Malfoy? It's impossible with his alluring gray gaze only inches away from my face.

I quickly notice how good he is at this, as he leads the dance. "I thought you say you couldn't dance," I mumble, trying to avoid his stare.

"I never said I couldn't, just that I don't dance," he simply says.

"Oh," I pause, meeting his eyes once more. "Well, I can't dance," I shrug.

"I can see that. But don't be discouraged. I grew up attending mandatory balls," he says smugly.

"Really?"

"Oh yes. All apart of the fascinating life of a Malfoy," he says sarcastically, a casual roll of his eyes.

"It does sound quite fascinating," I say honestly.

"To an outsider maybe. It's just a facade," He says.

"You seem to be really good at that," I can't help but say.

"At what?" He questions. We continue to move about the room, dancing circles around ourselves as I follow his impressive lead. The intensity of his touch has yet to fade, I can still feel the heat of his hand resting on my waist.

"At putting up an act," I say.

He shakes his head. "Not this again," he groans.

"It's true," I hum.

"And why is that, Ashwood?"

"I'm convinced you try to make everyone hate you. To come off as careless, and selfish," I begin.

"It's just easier that way," he says, as he slowly spins me around. I ignore the gesture and focus on his words.

"Easier? How?" I ask, my brows knitting together.

"If people hate me, nobody willingly wants to spend time around me. Therefore, the risk of -" he pauses, a distant look crosses his face, "-hurting anyone diminishes," he says like its the most simple thing in the world.