Tainted Love

Astoria

DRACO

There was something wrong.

It had been going on for three days now and Draco was beginning to think it might not end. He thought it was some sort of grand scheme to make him feel bad, but if it was, Iris's resolve was a lot stronger than he thought it would be.

She had been ignoring him.

They hadn't spoken since last Monday, over a week ago, when she had confessed her feelings for him and he had subsequently rejected her. But her eyes still followed him around all the time. She was usually in his periphery, somewhere in the corner of his eye. She liked being near him even though she knew he didn't want her.

Draco liked that feeling. The fact that he had control over her even after he hurt her. Maybe control wasn't the right word, though.

He used to crave that power over her, that ability to dictate her emotions and actions, to be able to make her angry. But it was a long time since he had thought of how much control he had over her.

Lately it had been more about whether he thought he could get her home, whether she would come out for him, what she would say to him while they were fucking and what he would reply. And what they would do afterwards.

He supposed those things had to do with control. He liked being able to make her do the things he wanted her to do. But he hadn't thought about that in terms of the word control for a while.

Something had changed between Friday and Monday. She had been moping around all day before they left for the weekend, her feet light on the floor and her eyes flicking to the side of his face, staring at his profile.

When they came back on Monday, Iris got to work before him. That was rare enough on its own. She didn't even look up when he walked in. She was doing the same thing he had been doing to her for a while now - pretending like his presence didn't exist.

At first, he thought it might be some sort of half-baked revenge plan. Maybe she was trying to force him to take his own medicine. Maybe she thought that her ignoring him would awaken some desire for her deep inside him. As if he wouldn't be able to stand working without her following him around with fuck-me eyes.

But Iris's anger was always quick burning. She was not the type to hold a grudge, not the type to carry out a plan for days on end when it clearly wasn't working. If she wanted him to pay attention to her or feel her loss, she would've confronted him by now.

He didn't care that she wasn't getting after him all the time. He just wondered what exactly had changed.

Had she had some sort of grand realization over the weekend that she hadn't liked him after all? Or was she just trying not to show it? Or was she still staring at him but just being more subtle about it? Draco honestly didn't know.

He didn't care about losing Iris, but he did vaguely miss the feeling of being unconditionally wanted. Having a person who you could do anything to and they would still find their way back to you.

That was a slightly fucked up thing to think and Draco knew it. He didn't want to fix that trait in himself and didn't know how he would go about it even if he did. It was a particularly nasty leftover from the war.

Nobody had stood by him then, nobody except Pansy, who was barred from his house and couldn't see him most of seventh year. Loneliness had pervaded his life so intensely that Draco would often lie awake at night with his eyes squeezed shut, wishing for somebody to come to him and understand him.

Looking back now it was embarrassing. That was the type of thing you were supposed to do aged nine, not aged seventeen.

But having someone like that, someone to want him no matter what - he missed that.