Rachel felt the air catch in her chest as she heard the words that Draco whispered into her ear.
"I love you, Mrs. Malfoy." He told her again, kissing her cheek gently as he sat besides her.
"Draco, I..." Rachel wasn't quite sure what to say to him at the moment. "I just don't know what... I mean, I'm not quite sure what I..."
"I know." His voice got suddenly quiet, heavy with the depression of his heart concaving in his chest. "It's okay." Rachel suddenly felt a great pang of guilt and didn't quite like this new sensation. "I'm sorry, "
"Draco. It's just, way too sudden..." She put her hand on his shoulder and he gave her a small, fake smile.
"I'm pretty tired," He stretched a bit. "You can sleep in the bed, I'll take the sofa if you want." He gestured to a plush emerald chaise that could easily pass for a bed over in the corner of the room.
"No, it's okay." She bit her lip. "We can share the bed, it's certainly big enough." Everything the Malfoys owned seemed to be grand and exquisite.
"If you're sure." He gave a small yawn.
"I'm going to go change."
"That's probably a good idea." Their wedding outfits were covered in sticky, dry blood and had started to get uncomfortable. He gave her a small nod as she went into the bathroom, taking her nightclothes with her.
She washed her face and stripped down to her undergarments, being careful not to do anymore damage to the dress she loved. Her nightgown was blood red, one of her favorite colors, as well as one of Draco's, and its satin material felt comfortable on her flesh. She brushed her teeth and hair, pulling her raven-colored curls back into a ponytail so she wouldn't stifle herself in her sleep. Leaving the dress for a house elf to take care of, she knocked on the bathroom's door.
"Are you dressed?" She asked Draco, being polite instead of barging in on him.
"You can come in." His voice called through the door.
Draco Malfoy was quite a handsome young man. Standing tall at 6'2" with his lean, muscular body, grown hard from quidditch practice. His long blond hair fell into gray eyes that caressed her warmly as he gave her one of his rare smiles. She could see the way his clavicles cut into his broad shoulders and the sheen of the pale skin that covered his chest caught the dark light just right. He wore black pajama bottoms made of the same material as her gown and was reaching into a mahogany drawer where he got out a black tank, which he pulled on over his body.
"Are you alright?" He asked, raising his brow at her sudden pause in the doorway.
"Hm?" She snapped back to reality with a blink.
"Are you alright, Rachel?" He put his hand on her shoulder. "I know that you didn't want to go through with this, and I'm sorry about what my father did..."
"It's not your fault." She cut him off.
"By all means," He sighed, looking off to the side as though he was not sure that it actually existed. "You should hate me." He gave a weak sort of chuckle. "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me."
"I-I dont hate you." She sat down on the edge of the bed, surprised by what he had said. "I don't hate you at all."
Draco was not used to being loved; a fact that would be obvious had someone taken the time to look close enough. His father had always seen him as something lowly and unfit to be of his bloodline; and Narcissa was just a trophy wife who spent most of her time at courtesan affairs or lapping up the lavish life that had been provided for her. Neither had done so much as hug him, not for many years now. Human emotions confused Draco terribly, especially the ones labeled love and affection, even ones like care and adoration. But things were different, for some reason, with Rachel. She had been a friend in childhood, yet in the short time they had spent together since they were reunited, Draco felt a strange connection to her. He found it hard to act his normal, malicious way around her; opting instead for a gentler demeanor. He had even told her that he loved her- the first person he had ever spoken those words to. And he actually meant it.
"Draco, just come to bed." She tried to be soothing. It was obvious that he was upset, and they were both exhausted beyond compare from the wedding ceremony's occurrences. "You need the rest." She begged.
"You're right." He sighed, crawling under the covers next to Rachel. "Goodnight." He kissed her cheek, and she his. "Pleasant dreams."