𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

Chapter 7

WEEKDAYS

What was I fucking thinking? Was the first statement that came to Draco's mind as he closed Y/n's dorm door and made his way back down the stairs.

Why did I kiss her cheek? He thought, turning and making his way up to his dorm.

What's gotten into me? All these thoughts blurred his mind, the firewhiskey slightly kicking in.

He changed and freshened up, falling on his bed. All he could remember was anger. Anger that someone layed eyes on Y/n that way. He didn't feel it was right. He knew they had no right to.

He was just angry that those boys found it funny to mess with her dress. To reveal her flawless silky skin that no one else but him was allowed to see and touch.

The way Y/n fit right in his arms stayed in his mind rentfree. The way she looked in that dress, when she was standing under him, when his jacket around her makes her look adorable with those innocent wide lavender eyes.

He couldn't get it out of his head.

What was he to do now? There was no way he'd have the guts to talk to her tomorrow. There was no way. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted in his position.

What was going on with him?

How could he think of her that way?

Why was he so protective of her?

Why was he jealous when someone else stared at her like that?

A soft groan left his lips as he recalled beating up the guy. After he helped Y/n with dress, he had immediately made his way to the boy and asked him to meet outside.

When he did, Draco had got a job of beating him to the pulp. And Merlin, did he succeed? The boy was left on the ground, bloodied and moaning in pain with a last and final warning not to look at Y/n that way nor mess with any girl's respect such way.

He knew his mother would be proud of him for doing that, but of his father that he defended a muggleborn, not much. Draco knew his life was messed up, the way he saw things was fucked up and he couldn't just change it.

He argued with the other side of him. Other part of him that believed every word his father said. That they were above everyone. That their blood was pure and they were to be respected.

And people below them didn't matter to them.

But then came the other side of him. He asked himself. Okay, not anyone else but did Y/n not matter to him? Would he push her around like he would to every other muggleborn. Would he let others walk all over her because she was a muggleborn?

But argued the other side again. He should, it said. He should let her get scrambled by other's feet. He shouldn't care. She wasn't the worth nor she deserved any better treatment.

But again, would he be able to watch it?

The inner debate always brewed inside his head. But most of the time, the thoughts Lucius drilled, won. Most of the time, he found himself insulting her based on those thoughts.

But sometimes, the side that cared always intervened.

Everything about her was just different. Her hair, her mesmerizing eyes, her personality. He just didn't know what to do. He still recalled the way her eyes glimmer when she speaks of certain things. Her interests.

Her voice. It was perfect melody to him. The way she sang gave him goosebumps, yet relaxed his nerves to no extent. Her voice was soft yet raspy at the edges. It drives him insane.