XI. Weak
"Tell me you don't love me," Draco insisted.
She couldn't take her eyes off him. She tried to talk – but the words wouldn't leave her throat.
"See? You can't even lie to me."
He came closer and she remained motionless as he pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her neck. Why was she so weak when it came to this man? Why couldn't she resist him?
"I know you, Ginevra. I know what you truly want," Draco murmured in her ear.
She hated him for being right. And she hated herself even more for wanting him.
"Potter will never make you feel the way I make you feel. You'll never have what we have with him," Draco assured. "And you know it."
He was a drug that her body needed badly. Despite how much it hurt. Despite how wrong it was.