Torturous, angsty and agonizingly painful — those were the words that Draco would use to describe the feeling he was experiencing at the moment. It was like wanting to smash your head in the wall and hoping that the glass mirror hanging on it would leave its remains of shredded glass in your head, a bit too extreme however, still the way the Malfoy heir felt. It had been already embarrassing enough that he had kissed Granger— fucking went over to her room and begged like a madman to her so nobody would know. When he repeated the event of that night in his head, all he wanted to do was cut open his wrist and wait till he bled to death but this was Draco Malfoy, he was smarter than considering suicide or self-hurt. He was cunning and clever, he knew that self control was the only thread of hope that would keep him and his mind in one piece.
Hence, for better or for worse, it was necessary to hold onto that thin thread of self control, and so he did; clinging onto it like his dear life depended on it.
Knowing that self control was probably one of his best techniques to master, Draco took his time to divert his mind elsewhere. Elsewhere from that mind-plaguing kiss and from the Gryffindor witch sitting in her room opposite to his.
Just the mere presence of her made him want to drag his nails against the stone walls, and this time, it wasn't just her presence that made him like this, it was the rawness he felt after he had pushed her back the other day, from the kiss.
Draco shook his head clear, he needed to think of more important things (like that kiss was important at all), for example — what would happen if someone found out about it? He knew he was being too paranoid but what if someone had? What if someone had seen them from the bloody windows? Or maybe someone had their ear pressed against her door when he had ranted his pathetic emotions? What if Granger herself told anyone? She did, after all, hate him with a burning spite. It would make perfect sense if she told saint Potter, She-Weasel and her brother.
The more he thought about it, the more his brain itched.
She would tell Potter the Weasel, then they'll taunt you for the rest of your life, make your life miserable like you made their lives hell all those years ago.
He felt like screaming, pulling at the roots of his hair, smashing his head in a wall because that's how stupid he had been, he should've known that kissing Granger was not the solution to putting an end to the fucking burn he experienced, there must've been something else to be discovered had he not been fooled.
But now it was too late, the damage had been done, she had left a mark on not only his mouth but also his soul.
And to think that it was Hermione Granger was fucking ridiculous, draco added.
He let his gray eyes wander to the room he had thrashed when he had kissed her, now it was squeaky clean after he had managed to clean it up with a flick of his wand only to rethrash it, if that was even a word to him. The room showcased the Slytherin prince in all his green and silver glory, from a four poster wooden bed to green bedding and pillow covers and to the one window in his room, it all screamed perfection, neatness, precision and finesse.
But it was anything but that in his heart.
Truth was, everybody had failed to understand him, from his own parents to his so called friends, everyone. And it was this state of being misunderstood on everything that made him this way, he knew he had everything, could have anything in the snap of the fingers, but what he didn't know was whether he'll have those people who would share his happiness when he had everything in his world, people to cherish his happiness with.
"You're pathetic." he whispered, speaking after three days felt like a bliss as well as a misery. He didn't want to speak, but it felt like it was necessary to scold himself, remind himself how pathetic he actually was.
"You're so fucking pathetic." this time, he let the tears accumulated in his eyes fall. It was too much, his parents, his friends, his deatheater past, his prejudices and now, Hermione Granger.
His shoulders shook softly as he remished the last of his pride, thinking how everything did, after all, come back to you one way or another. Draco felt so much, yet he spoke not even a fraction of that. His lips burned against with a sharp sear, more frantic than he had experienced before. It wasn't the right time, it wasn't, he knew but he didn't know what was happening — maybe it was the state of vulnerability or the static storm in his head and his heart that made his feet automatically take him outside.
He was walking towards her door and he felt nothing, nothing about blood purity or any of the bullshit his parents had fed him, and he wondered for a faint moment, if that one kiss had made him a fool?
It was useless to fight the burn, that much he had learned when he had tried to fight it off and failed badly. The ache in his body was growing second by second and the moment, and there was only one cure for it: Granger.
His body felt hot as he pushed open his door and let his house robe fall over in the ground, now, clad only in his black school trousers and white shirt, his green tie dangling off his neck like a loose animal's leash— his cheeks sticky with salty tears and hair a fierce mess due to all the times he had run his hand through it in anxiety of the possibility of Granger telling off him.
The air was getting suffocating, or was it just him? He didn't know.
The moment he opened her door with a loud bang like an animal, his silver eyes fell on her— there she was in the middle of the room in her short school shirt and dare he say it...?
Her plain white bra?
She was brushing her thick hair with a hair brush, but as soon as she saw him, the brush dropped from her hands and her warm brown eyes widened, as if the reality of the situation had dawned upon her, hitting like a sledgehammer on her petite skull; Hermione stole a glance at Draco, completely paralyzed, the boy continued to eye her like meat and that's when she realised her attire.
In one swift motion, she had a bedsheets pressed to her chest which she snatched from the bed and then, she was confused, she still wasn't yelling, Draco noted and it was odd, very odd.
By now, he had expected her to throw multiple hexes at him till he flew out of Hogwarts but she was just... there, standing like she had seen a lost child in a funfair. In a parallel universe, Hermione Granger took in his pathetic appearance, for a fact, she knew that Draco Malfoy never cried, yet, here he was— in all his glory, vulnerable and raw, for her eyes only.
Nothing was said yet, all was, on the simple gestures of their eyes.
Hermione's breathing became even more erratic when he took a menacingly slow step forward, her eyes never left his when he reached her, the proximity between them lessened and lessened with every step he took towards her. The lust in his eye was not to be mistaken for likeness, Hermione reminded herself. She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down but it wasn't helping, it wasn't helping at all.
It wasn't helping that his body was pressing up against her own, it wasn't helping that his lips were swollen a deep red shade, it wasn't helping that be looked at her as if he was going to take her then and there, it wasn't helping that he was inching closer and closer to her, it wasn't helping that he had cupped her face in his cold hands.
"Why are you crying,?" Hermione dared to ask, closimg her eyes and saying, "Draco."her eyes not leaving his. It was no secret why he came here to do, she shouldn't have bothered with asking him how he was but being the good person she was, she did it anyway, with not hope of answer anyway.
Draco didn't say anything, all he did was let another tear slide down his cheek before wiping it off just as quick as it had happened, the other hand remained on her soft cheek.
"I hate my life, Granger. I am fucking pathetic." he didn't know why was he saying this suddenly, the vulnerability was as real as it got, if was terrifying to know what emotions could do to you, they could break you in half whenever they wanted an you could do nothing about it.
Hermione couldn't argue with him. She felt her eyes soften at his disheveled state and the vulnerability in his eyes. They both knew he'd regret it in the morning; opening up, even one sentence to someone like Granger, but all regrets had been thrown out the window the moment he had kissed her first, weren't they? She couldn't tell him he was right, that she thought he was pathetic— pathetic because of the way he had treated her and everyone else in their younger years, pathetic because he had been forced to choose the darkness rather than the light.
But no human was pathetic, even if it was Draco Malfoy, thought Hermione.
So she gathered every ounce of her courage and cupped his face with one hand, using her other hand to cluth the sheet she held tighter to her chest, completely surprising Draco who inhaled a sharp breath then and there. "Just..."
She started before letting the silence consume them again, "Just kiss me." She hadn't felt the burn yet, nevertheless, deciding to lower herself just for today. She liked to think that if she was in his position, she would have done the same— she'd have walked into his room and kissed him senseless, it was just that crazy.
"I hope you'll feel better afterwards."
Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't get a decent breath. His head that just seconds before had been full of unasked-for thoughts was now buzzing with anticipation. She felt his breath on her cheeks. He watched her eyelids flutter, then close. Then their lips met.
And it was madness.
Draco tilted his head to capture her lips, he deepened the kiss only slightly stopping when Hermione's sheet fell off because she had her fingers knotted in his hair. It was then that Hermione jerled him closer, diverting him out of his little shock and urging him to kiss her. Draco glided his lips over her jaw and then, down her throat, pressing feather light kisses to her skin which made Hermione close her eyes. There wasn't a care in the world to her, not the sheet on the ground, not the frenzy in her veins, nothing. The only thing that occupied her mind was the pale boy in front of her.
Draco sucked her bottom lip, making her let out a moan of pleasure, her eyes fluttered close at the contact and she wondered when was the last time she had been kissed like this, like she was someone's reason for sanity and peace.
Hermione let out a whimper when he bit her earlobe, the soft sounds she made sent shivers south of his body, making electricity ooze out of his brain, chaotic.
She pulled away, much to his dismay, putting her sweaty forehead against his own one. Breaths mingled and unheard cries were heard. Draco bent forward and kissed her one last time on the lips softly, a gesture so small get so loud. "I—"
"You don't have to say anything," she sniffled, "It's okay. You can go." With a final look in her eye, Draco took the bold step to glide his sweaty palms down the straps of her bra, making her skin tingle.
It was as quick as it had come, and then, she was cold once again, his hands had left her body.
"Cover yourself up Granger, we don't want anyone else seeing you that way." he had told her before he was out the door, leaving behind a tomato red Hermione.
~~~~~
Hello, fellow shippers! Can we get 40 votes for the next chapter? I promise that'll be sooner! And if you think this is moving too fast, just wait for the next chapter :) you'll understand. Love you all, please leave an honest review and share it with your fellow shippers!
BTW, this isn't proof read at all, I'll do that tomorrow lol. xoxo