A/N: thank you to my friends in biology class who helped me a lot, even though they had no idea what they were helping me with. Well, no thanks to my good friend Racchel, who's only suggestion for the letter "k" was "kangaroo". -.- that would make an odd fan fiction...
Bare
Here he is, laid bare before me.
Struggling not to cry, he burns inside. I wish I could help him, but I know I can't do anything, so I just hold him as run away tears slip down his face.
It's only a month into our relationship. It's been a year since the war. Everyone's still trying their best to recover. Most of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban, but the youngest ones stayed behind. Draco cries when his family's names are mentioned. He knows he won't see them again.
We're in the Sitting Room of the Malfoy Manor. Draco lays sprawled across one of the prim, decorative sofas, his head in my lap. His eyes are red. I can tell he wishes I'm not seeing him like this, at his weakest state. I stroke his hair, hoping to calm him the best I can.
"Astoria?" He mutters.
"Yes?" I whisper. The empty house seems to require low tones, as if the still air shouldn't be disturbed by a mere breath.
"Thank you."