Trigger Warning: Suicide and blood.
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I wake up and I don't feel Draco beside me in our bed. Something in my gut tells me that there is something wrong. On Draco's nightstand is a folded up piece of paper that was not there before. When I read the note my stomach flips. I nearly vomit.
What is the point of trying anymore?
Everyone thinks I'm a murderer. A cold, unfeeling Death Eater, with no morals and no soul.
A reputation, and a repercussion, of my part played in The War.
Do they ever once think that maybe I had no choice? That maybe I didn't want that life?
No. Of course not.
So, really, what was the point?
Nothing I say, or do, is ever going to stop them from thinking anything other of me; stop them from talking behind my back, or glaring at me like I had just given the plague to their children.
Maybe—
Maybe I should just make it easy for them.
I'm sorry
"No." I whisper under my breath. I don't know where he is at but I just run. I run outside and into the forest behind the manor. Sharp rocks slice open my feet, branches scrape my cheeks drawing blood. I pay it no mind. I keep running, crying, praying. Praying that I find him before its too late.
Finally I come across him, leaning against a tree, dagger in his hand, blood pouring from his left arm where the mark is. My throat goes dry. I become horribly dizzy. "Draco!" I scream as tears pour down my face even harder. I stumble over two him nearly collapsing in his lap.
I grab the knife and throw it as far away as I can, before sitting on top of him. I take his arm, soaked with his warm blood, into my hands. The mark is burns me. I never thought it could burn anyone but the person who receives it. I don't care. I let it burn me. I want to ask him why he's done this, but I already know why. I cradle his head to my chest, stroking his hair and softly kissing him on the top of his head. "You're alright," I whisper, "Oh Draco, I love you so much." I kiss his face over and over. "Oh Draco!" I sob even harder, realizing I left my wand in my bedroom. I can't fix him. If I leave him to get my wand, he'll die. He's going to die anyway. He will be dead by sunrise. And it's all my fault. I put my face to his forearm and kiss it. Although it burns my lips I don't stop. "Oh my darling husband, please don't die!" I beg. "please."
I tear my nightgown into strips and start to wrap his torn up arm, but the mark burns the fabric. "No!" I cry even harder. "No!"
...
I must have passed out because the next thing I know the both of us are lying in our bed. I'm not even sure how we got here, but I am so glad we did. He is calm and his breathing is almost normal now.
I can't believe I let him do this to himself. If only I would have been there when he woke... It's my job as a wife to keep my husband happy and I've failed. I've failed miserably. I wasn't there for him. It's my fault he's almost dead. It's all my fault and I feel so sick.
"I'm so sorry." I tell him when he wakes.
"For what?" He says weakly.
"For not being there for you."
Draco takes a deep breath. "I don't deserve someone as wonderful as you. You tell me you love me every single day. And I just-"
"You're right you don't deserve me. You deserve someone much better, but I don't want anyone else but you. If you were to die- oh Draco, I would go insane." I cup his face in my hands before leaning into a kiss. It's soft at first, but it soon heats up. Kissing Draco is like drinking salted water, the more you drink, the thirstier you get. When our lips pull apart I let a tiny moan escape my mouth. All I know right now is that I love him more than anything.