Malfoy's Mudblood | Draco Malfoy

Chapter 17

Jenavieve dropped her arms and stepped back from Draco, peering into his eyes lovingly as she turned around to head back to his bedroom and peer around his bookshelf looking for anything interesting. Draco followed behind her like a little puppy, curious to where she would be heading. As she skimmed his bookshelves, focused on the task in hand, she glided her pointer finger over the bookshelf itself, her eyes flicking over each spine of the books collected on the shelves that Draco had brought from the Malfoy Manor. Draco admired her in awe at the compelling beauty she held. Her attentive eyes, the bridge of her nose, how her lips pursed together in concentration, how her eyebrows furrowed, the light skimming of the bookshelf she held continuously with her index finger. He admired everything.

"Oooh, Pride and Prejudice," she exclaimed excitedly, pulling the book out by tipping the top of the spine with her index finger towards her, sliding it out elegantly as she admired the gorgeous cover.

"You have a beautiful copy too" she exclaimed in wonder.

"Have you read it?" Draco asked, curious to learn more about her hobbies.

"Why, of course! It's only one of my favorite novels! I'd happily read it again if I had the chance to" she exclaimed, satisfied with her choice, and walked over to his bed, plopping down on the messy sheets, sitting criss-cross. Draco followed her, sitting beside her as he crossed his legs.

"Have you?" she questioned him back.

"Actually, I haven't. It was a gift from my mother and I never came around to read it. Father, never really permitted it, it is a muggle book after all. However, mother really enjoyed it and gave it to me to read." Draco summarized.

"Oh," Jenavieve mumbled. Slightly forgetting the idea that Draco was a wizard. She slouched slightly and began reading the copy aloud.

"What, why are you reading it aloud?" Draco questioned, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Well, you said you haven't read it yet, and you must. Especially when it's one of my favorite novels," she concluded. At that, Draco nodded contently, sitting slightly more comfortable against the headboard of the bed, spreading his legs apart and ushering Jenaveive to sit in his lap. She eagerly did so, pulling the covers over her and Draco to keep them warm as Draco held the book open for her to read. Jenavieve rested her hands over his, gliding her pointer finger over his soft cold skin, admiring his rings. She snuggled the back of her head into his chest expressing comfort and protection as she began reading aloud with her soft velvety voice. Draco's heart fluttered at the sheer sound of her wondrous voice. He would never forget the soft rings of her sweet melodic voice as she spoke the passages soundly.

Over the course of the next few days, Jenavieve practically lived at Draco's house. She went to and from work from Draco's apartment, only to be embraced in his wide arms whenever she came back, always happy to see her. This is what love feels like, he thought to himself. And he never wanted to give it up. This hadn't been the same love he felt for his parents, especially his father. Jenavieve showered him with love through loving words, services, and physical affection. The most his parents had done were spoiling him with gifts, flattery, and a lacking sense of self-importance. They hadn't spoiled him with their loving time, companionship, or affection. Jenavieve did it all. And, in all reality, he didn't know how to love. How to love Jenavieve, at all for that matter. But he supposed he did love her. He didn't particularly want to admit it, his cold front still lingering somewhere within him. But as the continuous days went by with and without her, he caught himself finding her lingering in the back of his mind, all day. How, when he fell into daydreams, they were always about the playfulness of her personality or her swaying to the music in her living room. Unlike the very beginning of his entrance to the muggle world, he slept peacefully, no longer feeling the angst of staying up continuously with days on end. He felt serene in her presence. He felt comforted to express himself. He found himself so in love, which he couldn't identify at first, and it had all been frustrating, all been so scary. Perhaps, that's why it took so long for him to embrace love. He had wanted to fight the feeling, betray it at all costs. But now, even though he is still indeed afraid of this foreign feeling, he wanted nothing more than to accept and feel every ounce of Jenavieve's love.