Draco took a moment to scan his disheveled appearance in the mirror in their room. He heard the soft sound of Theo putting his shoes back on.
His hair was a right state, blonde locks all over the place as opposed to the way he always kept it neatly combed. He sighed, opening the top drawer of his dresser where he kept his comb.
"Shit, Draco. Fuck!" Theo exclaimed, startling him enough to almost drop the comb.
Draco began running the comb through his messy hair in attempts to tame it, though little could be done to prevent the sheath of sweat around his temples. It dampened parts of his hair. His cheeks were still tinted a deep, rosy pink.
"What is it?"
"I forgot to use a protection charm on you."
Draco froze. The comb stilled in his hair.
He had also forgotten, but that didn't make him any less upset at the situation. He turned to face Theo, who appeared to be genuinely troubled. He sat perched on his bed, with only one shoe on.
"Don't worry about it," Draco said casually, opting for the indifferent route. "It was just sex, and in the moment we both forgot. Nothing to be ashamed about."
They hadn't talked about it. It hadn't felt like just sex to Draco, when Theo had lovingly caressed him and praised him for how well he'd done. But Theo had already hurt his feelings once, and Draco wasn't going to let it happen again.
Theo's eyes widened. He dropped his shoe. "Just sex, huh?"
"I wasn't expecting anything else," Draco said coolly as he resumed brushing his hair. Slowly but surely it began to fall back into place, nowhere near where Draco wanted it but better than the lion's nest it had resembled before. "It was a lot of fun, though."
"Fun?" Theo echoed. He stood up off the bed, shoes entirely forgotten. "It was fun to you. Was that all?"
Draco swallowed thickly. He hadn't expected the other boy to be so confrontational about it, had thought they were on the same page it only being sex, until it hadn't been, and now Draco didn't know what to feel-
Theo's face fell into a frown.
"You think I'd fuck anything that walks, don't you." Now he just sounded hurt, and Draco was wracked with guilt in spite of himself. He couldn't seem to figure out how to stop hurting people, could he.
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
Theo reached down and put on his other shoe while Draco sorted out the last remaining stray hairs. Then Theo began walking closer to the other man.
"Is that all you see yourself as?" he asked softly. The question's veracity surprised Draco.
"No."
"Well, then what was that, to you?" The question was open, vulnerable. It made Draco tremble. "Was it just 'fun' to you?"
"It . . . was . . . It was-"
"What do you want, Draco? Tell me, in your words."
Draco felt his eyes widen and his mouth open. He didn't think a single person had ever asked him that before.
You, he realized.
"This," he said instead, gesturing to the space between them.
Theo cocked an eyebrow. "What's 'this'?"
"I dunno, Theo, you tell me!" he exclaimed, feeling frustrated that he was losing control of the conversation and flustered by his sudden onset of feelings he hadn't known even existed.
"I'm not the one who appears to be confused here. I know perfectly well what I want."
Then why don't you tell me? Why do I have to be the one to say it?
"Well, I'm sorry I can't be as in check with my emotions as you are."
"It's simple, really," Theo said flippantly.
"How so?"
"You either want me, or you don't."
"So this is an ultimatum," Draco snapped.
"It's a question."
Draco thought of Theo following him to the astronomy tower when he knew he'd have a panic attack, of him convincing Draco to make the right decision in visiting his father; even if it'd ended poorly for him, he'd done it for his mother, and that was all that mattered. He thought of Theo asking him why he hadn't told him he was a virgin, of him fucking him like he was the only one that mattered, the way he'd been rough with him in all the right ways but somehow endearingly soft at the same time. Pools of sweat gathered in his palms, and without realizing what he was doing he took a step closer to the other man.
"Theo . . ."
"Draco. Tell me what you want." His voice had gone softer, but it was rough around the edges. He sounded wrecked. Draco chanced another step closer, and he heard Theo's breath hitch.
As if in a lucid dream, Draco lifted a hand and placed it softly on the other boy's jaw. He thumbed the freshly shaven skin. Theo sighed shakily, shoulders rising and falling, rising and falling, and in that moment Draco knew why Theo needed to leave it up to him.
Draco closed the gap between them, as their foreheads softly touched. He placed his other hand on the other side of Theo's face, cupping his jaw tenderly.
"I want you."
Draco pulled him in for a searing kiss. Their tongues danced together, and soon Theo took control of the kiss, tongue coating and exploring every inch of Draco's mouth. Draco sighed into the other man as Theo brought his hands up to cup Draco's face.
They broke apart, both panting, foreheads still touching. Draco took his hands and ran them through Theo's smooth, soft, now messed up hair. Sex hair looked rather good on him, when it was from him.
"Draco . . ." he breathed against his mouth. He planted a firm kiss on Draco's lips, holding it there for a long moment. Draco sucked in a deep breath through his nose as Theo kissed him on his lips again, this time softly, once, twice, and a third time, before pulling away and looking deep into his eyes.
Draco shook from the pure gentleness of the gesture.
"I want you, too."
Theo kissed him a final time before pulling him into an embrace. Draco continued to shake as Theo wrapped his arms around his back, pulling him flush to his chest. Draco rested his head on Theo's shoulder. Theo wasted no time in peppering more kisses onto the crown of Draco's head as he held him tightly.
"You're shivering," he murmured into Draco's hairline.
Draco said nothing, only lifted his head to look up into Theo's concerned brown eyes. "It's bloody cold in these dorms," he said weakly.
"I bet I can think of a few ways to warm you up," Theo tossed him a wink.
"You dirty bastard."
"You bring it out in me."
The confession drew a smile out of Draco.
"I really should be going," he said, desperately needing to gear his thoughts toward a safer subject matter. If they continued down this avenue, the two of them might never leave for that library. "They're going to wonder what's going on."
"Let them wonder." Theo's eyes were dark with hungry lust. "Merlin, Draco, the things I want to do to you, you have no idea-"
"I've an Arithmetics exam tomorrow," Draco said breezily, fully aware of the effect he was having on the other man. Feather light, he stroked Theo's face. "And it's getting late."
With that, he parted from Theo and gathered his books and parchment, throwing everything in his messenger bag.
"You're killing me."
This time it was Draco's turn to smirk. "Am I? I think you like it."
Theo's eyes widened. He took a step closer to Draco.
"Bold of you to assume I'm a masochist."
Draco chuckled.
"I'm assuming we're going to keep this private, for now." Theo toyed with his hair.
Draco nodded. He certainly wasn't ready to tell the others yet. It was a lot for him to process; he needed time.
"I'm not ready yet."
A small smile. "If I'm being honest with you, neither am I. Besides, I rather enjoy the idea of sneaking around behind their backs."
Draco felt himself smirking again. "I like the way you think, Nott."
Nott pulled him in for one more long kiss, cupping his face gently like it was the most precious thing in the world. Draco wanted to melt.
They parted, and Draco exited the room as he threw his messenger bag around his shoulder.
Once he reached the library, he scanned the tables for Pansy, Blaise and Greg. He found them at a window table, which were his favourite. Right now the sound of the rain pattering on the windows was soothing to his ears, and it would make a great soundtrack for studying his maths.
Greg saw him first.
"Oi, mate, where the hell have you been?"
"Working on my Potions project with Potter." Draco took a seat next to Greg.
Blaise rolled his eyes. "Fat load of luck you got being paired up with him."
"How's that going?" Greg asked.
"Erm . . ."
"Are things awkward between you at all, since he, y'know, sorta saved your life?"
"Not really," Draco lied. But the truth was, he didn't know what things were between him and Potter. He felt like every time he saw the brunette things got more complicated.
"Well, that's good."
"Where's Theo?" Blaise asked him, and Draco put on a practiced mask of indifference.
"Think he's caught up in detention. I might've heard him say something about Slughorn and staying late, but I wasn't completely paying attention."
"Why's your face all red?" Pansy asked him, taking a closer look at him.
Draco felt his cheeks pinken further at her question. She smirked at the silent admission.
"I went for a run earlier."
"In the rain?" Blaise asked.
Shit.
"It's sodding freezing out, mate," Blaise continued. "Who'd voluntarily run in this weather?"
"I-I was-"
"Where have you really been, Draco Malfoy?"
Pansy's mischievous tone made him nervous because whenever she asked like that, she expected nothing less than a truthful answer. And she had the lie detector of a criminal mastermind.
"I told you, I was with Potter. And as you all know, I'm greatly out of shape at the moment, so small trips wear me out."
"Was studying all you were doing with Potter?" Pansy asked conversationally. Blaise snorted. Greg retched. Draco nearly choked.
"You're absolutely disgusting." He pulled his Arithmancy book out of his bag, along with some parchment, ink, and a quill.
"Oh, come off it, you've always been a little obsessed. Especially during the Triwizard Tournament; even you've got to admit you wouldn't shut up about him."
Draco blushed something fierce. "I am not obsessed, Pansy."
Pansy was grinning. "Suit yourself. I was only asking what you were up to."
The group fell into a comfortable silence as they studied, and before long Draco heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Room for one more?"
It was Theo, and he looked absolutely dreadful. His hair was as messy as it was when Draco had left him, he hadn't bothered to button his shirt all the way up, and, to Draco's astounding horror, sported the hickey Draco had made for him fully on display on the left side of his neck.
Why hadn't he glamorized it?
Was he trying to get them caught?
"Look at you," Greg exclaimed as Blaise whistled lowly. Pansy all but cackled.
"Who've you just shagged, Theo?"
"I'll shag whomever I damn well please." Theo plopped in the empty seat next to Draco, between him and Blaise. "And that is none of your business. I don't kiss and tell."
Pansy narrowed her eyes at him.
"You don't kiss and tell," she repeated skeptically. "The Theo Nott, who has reported to me every shag since I caught you red-handed in fifth year, doesn't kiss and tell."
Draco paled. Nobody else knew about their incident in the broom closet except for Pansy. Pansy seemed to have realized her mistake as well, for she placed a hand over her mouth.
"Who'd you catch him shagging in fifth year?" Greg asked.
Nott and Draco had both been open about their sexualities to their friends, but had not wanted to stir up drama by telling them about what had happened between them. A little voice whispered in Draco's head that it was probably more drama keeping the incident a secret, but he ignored it.
Suddenly, another familiar but this time unwelcome voice spoke behind him.
"Excuse me, Malfoy?"
It was Potter.
Draco whipped his head around to view his visitor.
"Can I help you?" he asked coldly.
Potter frowned. "I was wondering why you didn't show for our Potions project meeting earlier this afternoon."
Circe, he'd completely forgotten. The dementor attack had left him so shaken up that he'd taken a long nap instead.
Pansy gasped.
Blaise's mouth dropped open.
A wide, evil grin appeared on Greg's face.
Theo blinked in surprise.
Draco felt heat rise in his cheeks. He was mortified.
"Erm . . ." Potter raised a brow, glancing uncomfortably at the scene before him. "What's going on?"
"I dunno," Pansy hummed, eyes not leaving Draco's. "What is going on, Draco? Theo?"
Draco looked to Theo, panicked, completely aware he hadn't even bothered with his mask. It was no use. His embarrassment was written all over his face; everyone had seen it, and now they were going to tease them endlessly and he wasn't ready, this wasn't how it was supposed to go-
Theo held his stare, looking calm. Well, that made one of them.
"So this is why you came into the library looking a right state," said Blaise.
Draco's hands clenched into fists. Potter was here, this was all too much-
"Malfoy?"
Potter's curious voice brought him back to reality. Draco unclenched his hands, breathing unsteadily. He stood up and began packing his bag.
"We can work on it now, Potter, if you like."
Potter's eyes widened. "Oh, okay, I was kind of in the middle of studying with Ron and Hermione, but I suppose we can grab our own table and-"
"Great, so we'll be going, then." Draco slung his bag over his shoulder.
"Draco, wait," said Pansy. "You can't leave now! Things just got good."
Draco glanced at the table, and when his eyes landed on Theo's dejected expression his heart lurched. He almost wanted to stay. But a stronger urge tugged at him to run away, the dominant urge that had dictated his choices his whole life. So he listened to it.
Harry wasn't sure what he'd walked in on at Malfoy's table of friends, but judging by the look on Malfoy's face it was something private. So, respectfully, he decided not to bring it up as he and Malfoy weaved through the library looking for a table.
"Over there." Malfoy pointed toward a free table, tucked in between a couple of tables of noisy first years who hadn't yet adopted proper library etiquette. Harry sighed. It would have to do.
He and Malfoy sat across from each other and put their stuff down.
"What you saw back there, it was . . . It was nothing," said Malfoy, sounding positively flustered. Harry almost felt bad for the bastard. "So don't ask."
"Wasn't going to," Harry said. "Like I told you, it makes no difference to me."
Malfoy frowned. "What happened to the Potter I knew? The one that cared about everyone?"
"Maybe you never knew the real me."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying you don't care about people."
Harry sighed. How many times would he have to go through this with the other man? "I'm just like anybody else." Which is what everyone seems to keep forgetting. "I care about the ones I love, and that's it."
"That's noble in its own way." The tone wasn't unkind, which startled Harry. He looked at Malfoy closer. They had ended things weirdly in that hospital room, where Harry wasn't sure whether he was relieved to have been walking from the conversation or not. Now sitting here before him, Harry felt . . . odd. There was no other word for it. Like the idea of civil conversation with Malfoy was too incomprehensible to even fathom.
"Caring about everybody would be utterly exhausting," Malfoy continued. Harry could hardly imagine the idea of Malfoy caring about anybody else aside from himself and maybe his mother.
"It's impossible," Harry said with a strained chuckle. "You'd drive yourself mad. Besides, it would defeat the purpose of caring at all, wouldn't it?"
"You've got that right."
Harry never would have thought he'd hear those words come out of Malfoy's mouth. These were strange times. Malfoy couldn't seem to stop surprising him.
"This feels utterly rhetorical," Malfoy suddenly said, and Harry couldn't help himself. He actually laughed.
"Yes, yes, it does."
"So, Potions?"
They began to discuss the nature of their project, what type of potion they were to be brewing, and how they were to begin charting the brewing process. Malfoy took out a parchment, a quill and some ink to write everything down that they talked about. After discussing for a while, Harry found himself thinking of Snape, oddly missing the late Potions professor. Slughorn just wasn't the same.
"Do you miss Snape?" Harry asked him, unsure why he felt compelled to ask Malfoy that question when the answer was fairly obvious. Malfoy had been his favourite student; of course he would miss him. But perhaps that only meant Malfoy rather missed the attention and favouritism than the man.
Malfoy's expression darkened. He stiffened in his seat. "I'd say no, but I don't have a right to criticize the side he chose."
"You mean your side?"
"I mean his side."
Harry blinked in surprise. Sure, Malfoy had shown acts of defiance against Voldemort, but he hadn't been completely sure where his loyalties lay. He decided to go for it and tell him. He felt like Malfoy needed to know this.
"He was a spy."
Sure enough, Malfoy's expression instantly softened and his eyes widened. "What did you say?"
"He was a spy, for the Order. He was the Dark Lord's most trusted servant, and he was our spy."
"I never knew that." Malfoy sounded calm, but Harry knew him better than that. His tone held a delicate hint of pain.
"He gave me his memories, before he died. He switched sides because of my mother." Well, that was extremely personal information to share with someone who most certainly did not give a single shit about him. Why was he telling Malfoy all this?
"I never got to say goodbye," Malfoy said softly. "He died thinking I hated him."
Harry resisted the urge to reach across the table and hold his hand. Wait a minute, where had that come from? Since when did he have urges about Malfoy to resist in the first place?
"I'm sure that's not true," said Harry, wanting to offer any comfort to the other boy that he could. Anything to remove that lace of pain from his tone and see him smiling again. "He knew you were young, that you didn't understand."
"No." Malfoy shook his head. "The last time I saw him, I looked him in the eye and told him I hated him. I spent weeks Occluding the memory for the Dark Lord to find it in seconds."
Harry felt a surge of dread wash through him. "Why do you call him that?" he asked Malfoy darkly.
Malfoy looked at him wearily. "Force of habit." His tone was clipped.
"You said Voldemort found the memory in seconds," Harry said. "What did he do to you?"
"He didn't torture me," Malfoy said casually, too casually. "That would have been too merciful."
Mercy. That was Death Eater language. Malfoy was mocking himself. Or them. Harry didn't know anymore. It was too confusing. Sure, Malfoy had failed to identify them in the Manor, even given Harry his wand, but he still didn't know for certain whether he'd wanted Voldemort to win.
"What did he do, then?" Harry asked, frowning in worry.
Something indiscernible flashed across Malfoy's face, but it was gone in a moment, replaced by that mask made of steel.
"He made me torture my mother." The words were cold. Harry gasped audibly.
"Malfoy, that's- that's-"
"I know."
"He made you- that's- your mother-"
"He wouldn't let me stop until I laughed at her." Malfoy ran a hand through his white-blonde hair, hair that looked so soft Harry found himself wondering what it would feel like carded through his fingers.
"Malfoy, I'm so sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for." Malfoy waved it off.
"I know, I'm just-"
"I don't want your pity, Potter."
"It wasn't pity, for Godric's sake, I'm not a charity basket."
The lines of Malfoy's plump, pink lips curved down into a frown. "I never said you were." The words came out small.
"You didn't have to."
Something flashed in Malfoy's eyes. Harry chose to ignore it. He gestured to the parchment in front of them. "We should probably-"
"Yeah. Let's get to it. I have a lot of studying to do."
"As do I."
They worked for a while, and then eventually packed it up.
"I guess I'll see you in class tomorrow," Harry said, feeling uncertain of where they were leaving things. Why did it feel like they always had these deep and somewhat meaningful conversations that were plucked dead before they could fully substantiate?
"I'll see you then." Malfoy nodded curtly at him before setting off to find his mates again. Harry headed back for Ron and Hermione. When he found them, he sat down with a sigh and placed his bag on the floor.
"Took you long enough," greeted Ron. "Where have you been?"
"Malfoy and I were working on our project," Harry said as casually as he could. There was nothing to hide; it was the truth.
So why did he feel like he was hiding something?
Hermione frowned. "For two hours? Seems like a long time just to plan a Potions project."
Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the third degree.
"We got a bit side tracked, and had some . . . Relatively normal conversation."
"Relatively normal?" Ron parrotted. "What in the blazing hell does that mean?"
"This is Malfoy we're talking about," said Hermione. "We have no idea what 'relatively normal conversation' looks like with him, considering he insults us with practically every breath he takes."
Harry thought about the look on his face when he'd said that Voldemort had made him torture his mother, his look in the hospital when he'd admitted he didn't hate Ron or Hermione at all; rather, envied them. He was beginning to think the bloke wasn't as bad as people liked to think he was.
Stop it, a little voice in the back of his head said. This is Malfoy. He isn't a good person. He was probably just trying to elicit sympathy from you so you'd forget that he was a Death Eater.
Harry couldn't argue with her there. Instead of trying, he sighed and reached into his bag to take out his Ancient Runes textbook and notes with an "I know, Hermione," and left it at that.
"So, what was the 'relatively normal' conversation about?" Ron pressed.
"I told him about Snape."
Hermione gasped. "You did what?"
"It was only fair he knew. They were close."
"If I didn't know any better, Harry, it'd sound like you were on his side," said Ron.
"No one's on anyone's side," said Harry, exasperatedly. "I just wanted to inform him. I regret bringing this up at all."
"Harry, we're just trying to get a sense of what happened," said Hermione. "You didn't just talk about Potions, you also talked about Snape. It's a lot to take in, considering Malfoy fought for the enemy."
"I know."
"Mate. You gotta watch out for him. He'll use any personal information you give him and use it against you. It's what he does."
"I know."
"So just be careful if you're gonna continue talking to him about anything besides Potions, alright?"
Harry sighed.
The three settled into a silence as the clock ticked later and the pressure of their studies mounted on them all. They worked for hours, until their mouths dropped open one by one like dominoes in a yawn.
"I'm ready to call it a night," said Ron. "How about you, Hermione?"
"Me, too."
"Great." He kissed her on the cheek.
The trio exited the library once their bags were packed and headed to the common room. Once they reached the door, Harry murmured the password and stepped inside.
The common room was mostly deserted, save for a few groups of students sitting by the fireplace. Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way for the stairs, but were promptly blocked by Ginny.
"Harry."
"Hey, Gin." They hadn't spoken since their fight earlier that day. Harry had run off and allowed a few tears of frustration to leak from his eyes before furiously wiping them away and deciding that he would solve his problem instead of crying over it.
"Can I talk to you?"
"Of course. Ron, Hermione, I'll see you tomorrow."
He bid them goodnight and followed Ginny over to a couple of vacant chairs. She sat down, fiddling with her fingers. Harry studied her closely. He wasn't sure which angle she was going to take, but he could read her tells well. She was about to either completely give in, or find a way to attack Harry's line of logic about them taking a break.
"Harry, I-"
"Ginny, I'm sorry for running away earlier." The words flew out of his mouth. "That was wrong of me. We're supposed to be a team, and I acted selfishly."
"It's okay . . ." Ginny frowned. "I've been a bit selfish as well, it seems."
She played with a piece of her fiery red hair that Harry loved to pull as he made love to her from behind. God, he missed her, and here she was right in front of him.
"I've been insensitive to your . . . Issue, and I'm sorry about that."
"Thank you for apologizing." Was this how relationships worked? This was Harry's first one; he didn't know what the hell he was doing, and evidently neither did Ginny, so they'd reasoned they'd figure it out together as they went along. Turns out they hadn't needed to; everything had been perfect, until now.
Harry was worried that now that they weren't perfect, they couldn't be anything at all, because that was how he always envisioned Ginny as: perfect. No flaws, no dimension, just pure, unadulterated perfection. He was only now beginning to realize how unhealthy that vision was.
Was Harry even ready for a real relationship?
"You're welcome. I've been doing some thinking, and I'm sorry I pushed you about your decision to take a break. You clearly want to for a reason, and I didn't respect that. For that, I apologize."
Harry wasn't sure if Ginny's apologies were sincere or calculated.
"It's okay, Gin," he said gently. "It's in the past. We can move forward from it."
Ginny chuckled. "Is this how people in relationships move past their issues? Cause I think we're doing a fantastic job so far." She sounded so sweet, so innocent . . .
Maybe her apologies were sincere.
"I was thinking the same thing," Harry said. "You know I'm not good with this sort of stuff, Gin. I'm trying. I really am."
"I know you are, Harry, and I love you all the more for it. I want to communicate to you that I'm nothing short of devastated that you want to spend some time apart from me to figure this out, but if that's what you want then I will respect your wishes."
She sounded so formal, fuck. He wanted the old Ginny back, the one that would curse and argue with him about Quidditch.
"I think it is for the best," said Harry. "I'd still like to stay friends, because I really dunno what I'd do without you."
Ginny sighed. "Of course we'll stay friends, Harry. I bloody well don't know what I'd do without you, either, you big prick."
Draco and the others were walking back to the common room from the library after a long night of studying. Nott hadn't so much as looked at him once after his performance at their table earlier that evening, which Draco didn't blame him for. He deserved it.
After he'd gotten back to his table, Pansy had immediately attacked him with a series of questions about Nott.
How long have you guys been seeing each other?
Who made the first move?
Whose bloody awful idea was it to come in staggered covered in love bites like we wouldn't notice?
To his irritation, she hadn't relented no matter how many times he'd told her to shut up, and finally he'd threatened to leave the table if she kept bringing it up. That had quieted her down. Greg and Blaise knew better than to push. He had a feeling Theo was getting grilled later, though.
Self loathing twisted in his gut, and he held his head down low as the group walked back upstairs. Nott bumped his shoulder and glared at him scathingly. Draco grabbed his wrist, to Theo's shock, halting his movements.
"What do you think you're doing?" Theo hissed.
"We'll catch up with you guys," Draco called to the others.
"Don't bother finding us when you're done," Blaise called, as they rounded a corner up a flight of stairs. Not letting go of Nott's wrist, Draco began marching him downstairs and through a hallway where they could have some privacy to talk.
"What the bloody hell was that for?" Draco snarled, shoving Theo with his free hand and letting go of his wrist.
"What?" asked Theo, feigning innocence.
"You know what, you insufferable arsehole."
"Y'know, Malfoy, I figured once our cover was blown that you would be all for standing up for our relationship-"
Circe, it only just now registered to Draco that what they'd agreed on was a relationship-
"-because what good would it do to lie and hide once everyone found out? I should've realized it would be a bad plan, that they'd find out immediately, and I'm sorry about that, but really, Draco? Really? You'd rather go gallivanting off with Potter?"
"Theo, that's not what-"
"Don't even try to deny that you were disgusted by the idea of telling our friends we were together."
"I wasn't disgusted, I-"
"You are such a coward, Draco! Always running away."
Draco frowned at the harsh words.
"I'm sorry, but I just wasn't-"
"Ready. Exactly. That tells me everything I need to know about you. You make me sick."
It felt like he had stepped on his heart and cracked it into pieces.
You make me sick.
His mouth opened in shock, then he closed it instantly, shutting down and compartmentalizing everything. He would not allow himself to feel hurt by Theo. This was his fault, his mess, and therefore he did not deserve to feel any sort of pain from the aftermath of his mistake.
"See?" Theo exclaimed with a strangled chuckle. "You have nothing more to say to me."
And he was gone. It took everything in Draco not to crumple to the floor.