Thorns and Roses
Dedicated to: Drunaforever. Thank you for the support in previous Druna stories.
…
They get along, well enough, he supposes. Sometimes he wishes to strangle the life out of her. Sometimes she wants to stab him in the back a few dozen times.
But he doesn't strangle her, because she's grown on him a touch. She doesn't stab him in the back, because it's a damn cowardly sort of thing to do, and she's no Slytherin.
…
(She's better than him, she thinks.)
…
She's arrogant, playing with knives and danger. He's sneaky, gliding through the shadows and traitors. They fit together, but not like puzzle pieces. If they were of such a thing, they would nestle beside one another perfectly, contently curved to fit around the other's groove.
But she slashes and hacks at him, and he demands and forces himself into her. They break each other's defenses to ashes, and mould into one another nearly perfectly.
…
(He's dizzy, trying to keep up to her.)
…
"Get away from me, Malfoy." She hisses, eyes blazing with hellfire. Her cheek is ripped open with an angry cut. Her hands tremble with pain and fear.
He scowls. He has blood caked beneath his nails, and she's simply pissing him off. "Make me, Lovegood."
She raises her wand, and silently dares him to go anywhere near her again. "I'm done with you."
He laughs, turning away. "Good luck with that."
…
(She can be strong. Stronger than him and that's all that counts.)
…
She deals out her deck of cards like she's dealing out fate. He's amused at her intense expression, slowly picking up the razor sharp cards.
"You'll never win, Luna." He slips so easily in calling her by her given name. He hates it. Hate her.
She smirks, red lips burning with mockery. "We'll see, Malfoy."
He tosses down golden coins between them. "One of these days you'll give up."
Her eyes deliver a piercing glare. "One of these days you'll shut up and get out of my life."
…
(She can never really escape him, because he'll never let her go.)
…
He gives her roses. She eyes them with amusement. "Never figured you for a romantic."
"Shut up and take them." He glares, thrusting them out. She takes hold of them, raising an eyebrow at the thorns.
It's so deliberate the way she clasps onto them, it hurts. Griping so tightly onto the thorns, but she doesn't mind it too much. She likes the pain. "They're lovely," She comments, ignoring the blood already running free.
"They remind me of you," He sighs.
…
(She knows he's not much of lover, but she doesn't mind. She's not much of one either.)
…
He's covered in scars. They mark his body, claiming it in a brutal way. Never ending reminders of the past. "Stop looking at me." He grinds out, face flushed.
"Can't help it, dear." She shrugs, trailing a finger down a rather ragged scar on his chest. "They're intriguing."
"You sicken me," He scoffs, ignoring the warmth her touch brings him.
She rolls her eyes. "You make me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside."
…
(He hates the way she knows him inside and out.)
…
He reminds her of an old angel figurine his mother once had.
Made from different pieces of stain glass, but pieced together bit by bit. They had been jagged and sharp, jutting out wickedly of the lovely creation. His mother warned him to be careful, lest he cut himself upon her.
It had been lovely, catching the light ever so beautifully. He had loved watching her, resting so peacefully on the shelf.
He had also been the culprit that smashed the angel to pieces in the very end.
…
(He's the only person that could piece her back together again, and he's the only person that could break her into nothing. He takes satisfaction out of it.)
…
He's drowning in her.
She's everywhere around him, strangling him with her mere being. Draco's been woven tightly in her web of living, that he's dying within her grasp.
"Do you love me, Draco?" Luna whispers in his ears, nails biting into his flesh.
He wonders how easily it could be to snap her neck.
…
(Her bruises stand out like ink stains on her skin. Her cuts are ribbons of crimson dancing over her flesh. Her pain is hidden, buried beneath the lies.)
…
His kisses tasted like salt. Bitter and harsh, filling Luna with the essence of Draco. She doesn't mind, because she likes that coldness of his kisses. She doesn't mind when he hurts her, because she'll hurt him right back.
They've been sealed together, her fate is within his, and his is within her own.
"You hate me, don't you?" She smirks, leaning over his pale body. Moonlight falls, cloaking her with its beauty.
"Get out of my sight," He scowls, lighting the cigarette. His tone is cold and frigid, but there's warmth in his eyes.
…
(She comes to him shivering. He allows her to nestle in beside him. He scoffs in the morning, but its different now somehow.)
…
"I love you," He promises. He looks cold, standing in the wind. Rose red like blood whisper around them, bitter wind snatching away words.
"Don't tell me lies." She scowls, turning away.
He slaps her.
…
(He kisses her pain away. She resents him for that.)
…
They leave Hogwarts after the war. He's bloody and broken, and she's shattered and fragile.
They sail the world, leaving waves of crimson in their wake.
"Are you ever going to tire of me, Draco?" She wonders, shutting her eyes in the warm light.
"Never." He promises, and holds her tight. His grip leaves pale bruises, and her nails dig into his skin.
"Good," she smirks, pressing her lips to his.
Something breaks within.
…
(Marry me, he demands. She shrugs and says maybe.)
…
(A happy ending, maybe. Wrapped in pain, blood and resentment. Life.)
…
So this is my story. Been busy with everything, and I saw some prompts and chose these words out: Abuse, cards, thorns, glass, drowning, and sail. So yeah. Slightly abusive, screwed up relationship, but I got bored of the negative endings and the happy endings. So I wanted a touch of both.
Next story shall be a Remus and Luna. Maybe. Dunno.