Healing // d.m.

| 18 |

  DRACO kept a close eye on Ariendra. Sneaking side glances to check on her. The fact that she didn't faint or vomit after apparating relieved him that nothing serious happened back at the hospital, and she wasn't seriously injured. It's just the red handprint on her right cheek that's bothering him

  "Stop looking at me." Ariendra said to him as she caught his eye.

  "I'm not." Draco kept his eyes ahead. There was a two inch gap between them as they were walking on the mansion's pathways towards the main entrance. The trees that lined the pathway were now no longer luscious green. He remembered the gardener used to go to extraordinary lengths to shape them and keep the flowers blooming. The fog was thick shielding their view from the mansion and the gates.

  He looked over again at Ariendra. She was practically drowning in his coat making her look much smaller than she already was. He hated how it made him feel, seeing here in his clothes. It shouldn't have an effect on him and it was getting irksome on how he had grown even more curious on who the fuck did slapped her.

  "Stop!" She stopped her tracks and shouted. Someone's grumpy today.

  "What?!" He shouted back. "Merlin, you're weird."

  "Oh I'm weird? You're the one who's constantly looking at me like I'm a china doll about to break. For the last time I'm okay!"

  "I didn't say anything but alright fine!" Draco surrendered putting his arms up. "You're the one who asked me for a hug just 20 minutes ago and now you're acting like someone put a bloody stick up your ass!"

  "Well then remind me not to ask you again next time." She grumbled and continued walking.

  There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. He didn't mean it that way, not at all. She seemed to think that it was a usual thing, Draco Malfoy giving people physical affection when in reality the last time someone had ever hugged him was Voldemort when he surrendered Harry Potter dead.

  "Fine by me." He finally replied, hoping to see a flicker of disappointment in her face but clearly there wasn't. "But don't pretend it wasn't good."

  "It was just a hug, Malfoy." She tried to remind him and the small hitch in her voice made him smile a little.

  "So you're not going to tell me who did it?" He asked again with a huff. He had some ideas but he needed to be sure who to kill.

  "It doesn't matter." She said, stomping on some dried leaves on the gravel driveway. A small snowfall started to descend a while ago and her hair was littered with mini snowflakes. Draco made a move to put the hoodie of his coat that she was wearing over her head.

  "It does." He replied, "I doubt Professor Smethwyck would do such a thing so I'm down to two suspects."

  "It's none of your business." Ariendra froze from his actions and cleared her throat. "And Greg would never hurt anyone."

  Draco felt his fist aching for action, "So it's the Buffon."

  "Just drop it." She sighed.

  Draco laughed humourlessly, "That fucking twat-"

  "I said, drop it!" She insisted.

  For now he would, but once he had the chance to see him, Draco would make sure he paid for what he did. You don't hurt women, ever.

------

  Catherine wasn't mad at him. She was mad at herself. She was infuriated that she let herself become vulnerable and succumbed to his touch. She hated the idea that she couldn't comfort her own and had to stoop into the comfort of someone else's arms. The fact that it was one of the warmest hugs she has ever received in a long time makes it ten times worse and just straight up pathetic in her mind.