All the lies // D.M.

5 - Seven minutes in hell

Draco Malfoy

I stood there like a complete idiot, staring at her as if I'd been hit with a Stunning Spell. My legs were determined traitors because they'd been the ones carrying me closer to her despite every logical thought in my head screaming at me to turn around, walk back, and let her be someone else's problem — but I didn't. I left Sarah just to follow a girl where I usually rather be set on fire than be alone with her. A girl I should hate just as much as she hates me — but here I was anyway.

As I inspected her face closer, I noticed it—something fragile, a softness that seemed so far removed from the girl I knew. She was usually an ice queen — unbreakable and immune to the thousands of insults I'd thrown at her over the years. Now she was fragile, her defences down, looking almost... breakable.

And then she looked up at me, her eyes wide, something vulnerable just under the surface, and that quiet tension between us shifted. Her eyes were an endless blue ocean of emotions.

My gaze continued to move over her face slowly, studying every detail as though I might finally figure her out she looked like I'd just slipped past every wall she had put up and something in the way she looked at me made me forget every reason I'd seek her out in the first place. This wasn't because I cared or because some ridiculous part of me wanted to like her. No, I was here because I had to be and I need to remember that.

"So, fresh air, was it?" I managed, surprised by how soft my voice sounded as if the words were barely my own. She sighed, and it was shaky, letting out a thousand things I knew she'd never tell me.

A single tear escaped her eyes and trailed down her cheek before she could stop it. She turned away, probably ashamed of the obvious vulnerability she was showing me right now.

A gust of wind tore through the air, and she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. I didn't even realise my hand had lifted, wiping away the tear she shed, my fingers grazing her cold, red cheek. She glanced up again, my hand cupping her cheek as her eyes found mine allowing me in, just this once, like she was desperate for comfort even if it was from me. And for one damned, dangerous second, I felt the magnetic pull between us that made absolutely no sense. I could feel it in her too, the way her lips parted ever so slightly, like she was waiting for me to close the distance.

But the turmoil of her thoughts seemed to be faster than mine and she took a step back, her voice a whisper in the wind. "We should go back," she said, sounding as unsteady as I felt. "It's getting dark."

That small step felt like a cold slap, the space between us suddenly empty and the reality of it all hitting like a storm.

Avery wrapped her arms around herself, closing off again, and I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to look unaffected by my stupid thoughts. I can't believe I considered kissing her again.

We walked back toward the castle together, silence filling the time, and I was glad she didn't say a word because my thoughts kept spiralling all on their own — back to her lips, to the way she'd looked at me. The physical attraction was getting the better of me, messing with my head.

By the time we reached the castle, the sky was dark and the smell of dinner filled the halls. Avery stopped and her lips formed into the smallest smile, "Looks like dinner isn't over yet," she said with a nod, already moving toward the doors, leaving me standing there like some pathetic fool, who lost control over his feet — again.

My heart was hammering against my ribs, and I couldn't understand it, couldn't shake it. I needed space. Space from the way her vanilla scent, from the memory of how she felt too damn close, from the image of her eyes.

But before I could catch my breath, she stopped a few steps ahead, turning around "Are you coming?" she asked, brow arched, a hint of teasing in her smile on her face.