Desired | Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, 18+

13

Isla wasn't quite sure of what was happening with the boys she was doomed to choose between. She was indecisive, more than it because she didn't want to have anything to do with the two, and by the looks of it, or at least how they acted towards her — neither did they.

She worked as hard as she could to distance herself, not to let them strive their way close to her, but no matter how hard she'd toiled to earn space from them, they only seemed to come closer.

Isla's hands brushed against the tender skin of her neck. The shampoo bubbled as she sought to wash it out. Her conditioner smelled heavenly, combing her fingers through her hair. The heated steam fogged the bathroom as she turned the water off, grasping for her towel, and she wrapped herself in it.

Her skin chilled lightly by the icing air stroking it, and her hands squeezed her hair free of the water. A huff left her lips as she got dressed in her underwear and folded the towel around her head instead. Isla's palm struck the door, shoving it open out to her bedroom.

Her eyes flickered as she clocked that her friend had left already, she wasn't supposed to leave until it darkened outside, but with Ava being Ava — she probably turned too eager.

Ava had been spending much time with Blaise lately, and the way it seemed to do good for her friend made Isla more than pleased. That was the one thing she could wish would come out of the marriage law — that one of them lived to be happy with their choice.

The door to her closet slipped open as she tugged her clothes out, flinging them onto the bed, and just as she turned around,

''Is he here?''

Isla froze entirely as she watched the boy entering her dorm, wide-eyed. She had no chance of ripping anything from its hanger before his eyes snapped to hers.

''Theodore!'' She yelled out at the sudden surprise, ''Don't look—''

Isla folded her arms over her chest to cover herself up. Her bare skin shivered at the situation. The towel dropped from her head, '' Why don't you have clothes on?'' Theo said, shocked himself by what he walked in on.

His eyes caught hers as her mouth dropped open, in awe that he yet had failed to turn around.

''Fuck—'' Theodore turned around, swiftly, slapping his hand over his mouth, ''Fuck, Clarke, I'm sorry,'' He mumbled, trying to cover his eyes as he reached for the piece of clothing on the bed, ''Here—''

Isla snatched the fabric out of his grip, threading it over her body as quickly as she possibly could. Her cheeks burnt out of embarrassment as she took a hesitant step forward to grab her skirt.

''What do you want? It really is inappropriate to just storm into someone's room like that,'' She sought to raise her voice, be serious and severe with the boy whose back still faced her, ''What if I had been completely—''

''Don't flatter yourself, Clarke.'' Theodore peered over his shoulder, making sure that she was dressed before he fully leveled her again, ''You're not that special.''

Her eyes rolled, and she sighed, ''So I've noticed.''

''What was that?'' He snapped, turning around, ''You don't get to—''

''No, you know what? You don't get to come in here—'' She gulped as Theodore slowly shook his head at her, biting down on his lower lip, ''—here and tell me what I can or can not—''

He started, with measured steps walk closer to her, making her take steps back, ''— can not do, Nott. It's not—'' Her spine collided with her closet door, his eyes locked in hers.