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Numb
A pair of dull, lifeless hazel eyes gazed into the sparkling glass of the bathroom mirror, a set of trembling hands gripping the edge of the counter. A man's lips caressed her open thighs, leaving traces of saliva in his path. His fingers snapped the long black strap that connected the garter belt to her lace stocking, making her flinch before returning to her original state. She pursed her lips as her eyes connected with those in the mirror.
The mirror didn't recognize her today.
The young woman in the mirror was different from the one standing before her - the one who was ignorant to the world around her, to everything she had ever known to be real. What was real was the room, the man on his knees beneath her, and counter she was desperately holding on to.
Everything else was just...numb.
Those two lifeless eyes rolled back into her head as the man's desperate tongue played with her burning center. Soft moans escaped her parched lips, her slender fingers wrapping around his long blonde locks. "Say it," he whispered forcefully against her tender skin. Her moaning grew softer, the grip on his hair less desperate. Pursing her lips and shutting her eyes, she whispered, "I'm yours."
Shaking hands returned to the edge of the counter as he inserted two fingers into her. A small, incoherent cry escaped her plump lips. After a few good pumps, he rose to his feet, pulling her face into his hands as he passionately kissed her. She had never minded the sex, but this...this is what brought her back to him. This perfectly imperfect creature had captivated her body and mind, burrowing in her deepest thoughts, refusing to ever leave. His kiss was the perfect drug, her sweet addiction, and her one weakness.
In these stolen moments far from public eyes, he gave her everything she had been deprived of in her marriage. It was real, raw, true emotion that Ron could never give her. It killed her inside to think about what she was doing to her husband, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel every bit satisfied. He could never understand, she told herself. Draco was her only escape from reality. Nothing about him seemed real. Each time she came to him, she dreaded having to leave the security of his embrace. She'd return home to her husband and it seemed like it had never happened, like he was never there. But at this moment he was there and he was certainly real.
"Everything okay?" he asked her, gazing deep into her chocolate eyes. She nodded, sucking in a quick breath. "Yes," she said, softly. "Keep going." Pulling her into his strong arms, she buried her head in his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said as he brushed his lips against her shoulder. She shook her head.
Taking her tiny hand in his, Draco led her from the bathroom to the large canopy bed on the far side of the room. Sliding on top of the chilled satin covers, Hermione relaxed against the mound of pillows. Draco observed her from the foot of the bed, his silver eyes hungirly scanning her body. His eyes suddenly hazed over in a way that made her uneasy, and he grew very still.
His fists clenched at his sides. "He does that a lot, doesn't he?" he asked, his voice deep and threatening. Hermione acted confused. "Does he do what?" she asked. Draco nodded to her wrists. "Does that fire-headed bastard fancy taking his anger out on you or is it some sick shagging game of yours?"
Hermione shook her head, pulling her wrists protectively to her chest. "I'd rather not discuss it," she said softly. She could feel the bruises throbbing on her wrists as she remembered the way Ron had grabbed them, twisting them until she cried. He had drank too much that night and work had been stressful. He didn't care that their bedroom door was locked when he came home that night; he kicked it in, along with the closet door where she had been hiding.
She drew an uneasy breath.
Draco moved swiftly across the room, throwing open his closet doors and rummaging inside. Hermione followed him from behind. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked, alarmed. Draco shook his head as pulled on a shirt and jacket. "I'm gonna teach that piece of shit a lesson." he said, his face as hard as stone. "He can't get away with hurting you, Hermione. Not this time."
"Draco, no," Hermione said as she shoved him against the dresser with all her might, but it wasn't enough to stop him. "He can't find out, Draco!" she begged as she attempted to hold him back. "Draco, please! Ron's not that bad, I swear. I deserved it! Bloody hell, he'll kill you and I'll have nothing left." she sobbed, dropping to the floor in front of him. "I'll have nothing left."
Draco paused, his heart racing inside his chest. He looked down at her with sympathy but felt compelled to beat Ron's head to pieces. "How could you stand up for that, Mione?" he asked her, dropping his jacket to the floor. He watched her curl up into a ball, sobs wracking her body like a small child. "It amazes me how you can sit there and make bloody excuses for a piece of shit like Ron when all he's ever done is make you like this. Look at yourself, Mione. Look at the bloody bruises on your body and tell me how he's a good husband. Go on..."
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes glazed with tears. "He was drunk, Draco, it wasn't him doing it. Ron's not like that. He doesn't do it on purpose." Draco laughed. "Pathetic." he spat. "Really, Mione, I thought you were brilliant but obviously I was wrong. I mean, look at you." -he leaned against the wall next to the closet- "You're laying there pretending to be completely helpless and making excuses for that fucking shame of a man when you know as well as I do that the old Hermione Granger wouldn't stand for that."
Pulling herself from the floor, Hermione leaned against the closet doors, her right cheek pressed against the cool wood. "That Hermione's gone." she said, softly. "She left a long time ago." Draco turned to face her. "So what're you now?" he asked, curiously, as he walked towards her. She shook her head. "I'm a shell of a girl who's trapped inside a loveless, train wreck of a marriage." -she drew a breath as he pressed his forehead against hers- "And I've fallen in love with someone else." she whispered.
Draco took her small left wrist in his hand, observing her bruise. "You're not going back to him, Mione." he said softly as he gently rubbed her wrist with his thumb. "I can't send you home to that monster, even if he's your husband. I can't deal with seeing you like this anymore." Hermione nodded as tears pooled in her eyes. "I never meant for things to be like this." she cried. "I know it's going to kill him but I can't do it anymore. I can't keep pretending like it's okay, like I'm okay. I can't-"
Draco wrapped his arms protectively around her, cradling her in his embrace. "Things happen, Mione. That's why you're here now instead of in that bastard's hands." -he rubbed her back, soothing her- "I can't promise you a brilliant life or anything you've ever wished for but I can offer you protection and happiness to the best of my ability."
"What am I supposed to say to Ron?" Hermione asked as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Everyone's going to hate me for leaving him. They'll never understand." Draco pressed his lips against her forehead. "They'll understand someday, Mione. But for now, all that matters is what I think, and what I think is that under my watch, you'll never be hurt again."
Author's Note: Dear readers, i've finally written something new! Haha I've been holding onto this little fic for the past two years, and finally after seeing the new Harry Potter, inspiration struck! I really hope you all like it and give me some lovely reviews (good or bad, review away!). As always, thank you to those who continue to read my stuff :).
