We Belong Together || Draco Malfoy X Reader

112| The Seer

Y/N POV

Waiting for Draco to finish his shower was like waiting for Greg to finish his lunch; it never ended until one decided to shout at them. However, Draco was a twit at the moment because it was his bloody hair day. He even dared to yell back, asking for me to just stay in bed like a good girl.

I was in my dressing gown—all thanks to the sore legs, I couldn't walk to the wardrobe room by myself and Draco the dimwit refused to carry me there. He defended his action by saying he wished for us to dress up together but the wait was killing me.

He and his fucking hair. The worst combination when it came to having a quick shower.

Up until today, I didn't know how many regiments he needed to take care of the platinum-blond hair. It seemed like it was a lot since he took ages in the bathroom.

I tried to keep myself busy with whatever our room had to offer for my boredom to fade yet the only thing that slid to my mind was that bad dream—the sensation was too real that I doubted it was merely a dream.

What if it was never a dream?

"Ah, so refreshing—what the hell are you doing, Y/N?!"

The hot steam wreathed into the bedroom as he burst out of the bathroom when, unfortunately, I goggled at the bed with hands tugging my hair as if I was trying to tear my head open. Perhaps I did; I wanted to see what was in there circulating inside my brain to design such a filthy dream for me last night.

I just knew there was something wrong with me. Was I going mental?

"Hey, it's only a dream. Don't let it mess your mind," Draco came, seizing my hands by force while I kept it stuck to my hair.

"Let it go," his hoarse voice turned up. "I said let it go!"

And I gave in, allowing him to pin my hands against the headboard. He grunted harshly while I was struggling with my breath. Having his eyes pierced mine with the narrow glare plainly made it worse. He should've given me the loving stare rather than glowering as though I did stupid things earlier.

"How do you know if it's a dream?" I blurted and his grasp was pressing harder to my wrist.

"How do you know what's real and what's bloody not? It isn't a dream, Draco. I know it isn't a dream. I was there, I felt everything. I felt the hit, slap and I couldn't fight back. I was being dishonoured!"

I couldn't discern what those silver-grey orbs intended to transmit with the stare. Might it be a pity expression or a disappointment he hid for he couldn't disprove my statement—or was it repugnance he held for the wanton?

Which was which didn't matter anymore. He would leave me after this like he did when he entered the room in my dream.

"No lov—"

"You don't understand, he put his nasty dick in—"

"Only I shall fuck you. No one will have you other than me and if I say it's a dream, it's a dream," he stated loudly. "I'm taking you Trelawney now if that will clear your stupid thoughts."

I looked away. Not wanting to make eye contact with him and neither did I want to speak to him for the time being. It looked like I would tear up any moment if he got to slip in between my awful thoughts again.

Draco picked my clothes while the atmosphere was tensed in utter silence. His fingers travelled across the dresses inside my wardrobe and ended up drawing out a floral beige dress—it was a summer dress, most suitable for a picnic at the beach but I hadn't gone to one in a long while.