A/N: First time writing. Enjoy.
Draco loved her.
He loved the way her hair framed her face perfectly. He loved how she saw him for something more than just being the son of a death eater. He loved how she did not give up on him even when he had tried every way to push her away.
And after everything she did, it had worked. Her love had broken the walls around his heart, the walls that he always retreated behind since a young age.
Being a Malfoy meant growing up to be paranoid and a guarded person, especially around family. She had seen that and loved him anyways. Then somewhere along the way, he started loving her too.
They loved each other and their love should have been enough.
But it was not. Or at least not for Draco.
She was perfect. Absolutely perfect in all ways but one.
She was not a pureblood.
She was not the person Draco was betrothed to.
And that was enough to destroy both their happiness. It was a small insignificant thing, one that could not be changed. One that should not have mattered. In the grand scheme of their love, it was only a microscopic detail.
But it was enough.
Enough to make them act like strangers in daylight. Enough to make them only see each other only at night.
Each time they met, it was always in secret and neither minded as long as they got to see each other. But there was still a constant nagging that both of them heard. A feeling both of them felt.
What they were doing was wrong. Were they truly together if no one else even knew about it. Were they meant for each other when they always woke up to different people in the morning.
It started out small. But like all small things, it had the ability to grow and it did. The though grew and grew until that was all they could think about.
Were they doing the right thing? Were they even in love?
He had offered to run away with her, but she had declined. Britain was her home. It was where she grew up and where she planned to grow old. She couldn't just drop everything and run away with him, no matter how much she loved him.
She had offered to leave him alone and let them both move on with their lives, but he had declined. He couldn't imagine a life without her. He couldn't let her go.
And that was how they ended up where they were. It was their last night together. Their last night before he was to be married. Once he was married, it would be over. They would be over. She couldn't share her man with another woman. She would rather live with a broken heart.
"You could just cancel the marriage." she said.
He shook his head. "It's too late."
Word were exchanged, both their volumes rising. This always happened. It was a topic they often discussed and one that always ended in tears.
"I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do anymore." he said and it was a lie. It was an awful lie. There was so much he could do. So much that he could do to make her happy.
She cried.
He hated himself for making her cry. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve her tears. Not one bit.
"Don't cry over me." he said, this time holding back his own tears that threatened to come out.
Then she shook her head. "No, I'm not crying for you. I'm crying for who you could have been."