𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐭 {𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲}

| 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 | 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳

Epiales is the Greek deity of nightmares. He is a son of Nyx, the Greek goddess or deity of night. Some say he can summon nightmares into reality and torture the victim to death.

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a n g e l

"Draco, maybe it's time to come back inside," I called from the door. It was an unusually chilly Spring night, and I hugged my coat tighter.

He barely turned to look at me. His wand was held high in the air as he muttered under his breath. Blue wisps of light shot out from the tip, forming translucent barricades that quickly became invisible to the naked eye.

I was tired. And irritated. The weight of sleeplessness was heavy behind my eyes, and my head pounded like a war drum. "Draco, love, it's freezing," I said as I approached him. "Just come back to bed, please."

"Can't be too careful," he replied, his eyes never leaving the sky.

Not wishing to argue with him, I sank to the floor and leaned against the doorframe, watching him through my drooping lids.

I honestly wanted to cry from exhaustion. This was the fourth time this week he'd pretended to go to bed with me, only to leave when I've fallen asleep to cast protection charms over our house.

Perhaps pretended was too strong of a word. Maybe he did intend to go to bed with me, but the night always seemed to cajole his demons out to play.

It's been nearly two years, I would always remind him. Voldemort is dead. No one is coming to attack us. He couldn't understand. Even then, his eyes would dart around nervously. He could sit by the window for some twenty minutes, unmoving, just staring outside.

I had encouraged him to get a job just like I had. He was intelligent, capable, and brilliant at so many things: Potions, Occlumency, even duelling. He'd refused every time.

But of course, he had that luxury - his parents sent him money every month. I could choose not to work too, if I wished, but I didn't think the two of us cooped up at home would be a good idea.

He'd absolutely freaked out when I told him I got the job. Insisted that I didn't have to, that his money was enough for the both of us. Sure, it was. But I think we might've have gone absolutely mad if I didn't.

So he insisted he'd send me to and from work. I didn't mind; after all, he was only doing it out of fear. But there had been times I wanted to meet Hannah and Susan, or have a drink at the pub after hours with the Trio, and I couldn't even do that without having to invite Draco along.

Draco finally finished casting the protection charms and turned back to the house. I ran to fetch him a cup of warm water as he got into bed. When I made sure he was warm and tucked in, I lay back down. I was just about to drift off to sleep when I felt his hands roam my thighs and in between my legs.

"Draco," I whispered in the darkness. "I'm tired."

He didn't stop, moving the tips of his fingers along the fabric of my panties. I couldn't help but giggle as he began nuzzling and nipping my neck.

I climbed on top of him, my lips slamming into his. "Have I told you how fucking beautiful you are?" he rasped into my ear.

"Not since three hours ago when we were supposed to go to sleep." His blond lashes fluttered against my cheeks as he smiled.

We made love. It was hot, sweaty, and passionate. When we were done, he held me close to him, kissing my shoulders, my back, behind my ears, anywhere he could reach.

"Draco, you know you have me forever, right?"

"I know." He planted a final kiss on my forehead, and with a 'goodnight, darling', he was fast asleep within the next minute.

I lay wide awake, stroking his hair, thinking how I would move heaven and earth for this man. But I no longer knew how to tell him just how tired I was, or how I wished that sometimes we could be apart, only for a few hours. He didn't have friends of his own - we had no idea where Goyle or Blaise or Pansy were - and his parents were useless.

Narcissa visited sometimes, but it was always a cold, stiff affair. Cups of tea would be made, and polite words would be exchanged. Our house was big, but not big enough, and she'd turn up her nose at every little thing. She was especially displeased with the telly that hung over our fireplace, eyeing it disapprovingly as she sipped. When all the niceties were done, she'd perch her saucer down carefully, rise, kiss Draco on the cheek - only Draco - and leave.

Lucius. Well, we haven't seen him since the war. Draco still hated him for everything, and it went without saying that Lucius hated me. Some part of me felt extremely guilty. It was like I had come between his parents and him.

"Perhaps you could visit them sometimes," I would suggest. He'd look at me as if my face had been hit with a Stinging Jinx. Why would I do that? I told you, Angel. You're all I have left in this world. I'd hug him and tell him I'll be with him forever, all my unspoken frustrations knotting up my tongue and throat.

Everything became a vicious cycle I couldn't seem to break out off. I loved Draco with my entire soul, more than all the stars in the galaxies combined. But I had gotten better, and he had not. I was stressed and tired all the time.

It wasn't anybody's fault, I suppose. But if I had known how events would unfold, I would not regret feeling this way.