Slytherins Golden Girl

Chapter 42

She paused taking a step closer to him, he  stood staring back at her but unmoving. "Malfoy?" Eleanor cleared her throat.

He didn't respond, but the shadow on the floor shifted as he stepped closer.

Eleanor saw how his hair was a ruffled mess on top of his head and the first three buttons of his shirt were ripped open revealing his milky chest beneath. An empty bottle of whisky lay knocked over beside his feet, a large crack running through the glass side as Firewhisky leaked onto the stone.

But there was something about his face, something she could only describe as pure rage.

Eleanor knew he'd followed her down here.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" She repeats, straining her voice to yell over the music. It was quieter than it was in the common room but still loud enough she'd have to shout between their distance.

Draco stayed silent only taking another step closer to her, his chest contracting in the flickering light.

Eleanor let out a huff of air, striding past him to return to the party. She wasn't going to waste her time trying to get him to speak to her, when it was clear he was in a foul mood.

The next thing she knew she was roughly shoved to the side by her shoulders, her head thumping against the stone as her back was pressed up against the wall. The wall was cold against her, almost a relief against her burning skin except the jagged stone that dug against her bare shoulders. Draco had pinned both his arms either side of her head leaning his body weight against them, he made sure she had nowhere else to look apart from at him.

Messy hair fell upon his forehead as his eyes bored into her skull, he was livid. "Were you never going to tell me?" He hissed, staring down at her caught between his arms.

Eleanor looked away to avoid his glare, her head pounded and the bottle of whisky clinked in her shaking hand as it bounced against the stone.

She needed to get away from him. From this.

Draco slithered a cold hand up her neck grabbing a firm hold of her chin and forcing Eleanor to look at him until their eyes met only inches apart.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you." He lowly spits leaving his fingers resting upon her chin as an instruction.

Eleanor looked at him wide eyed, his once sea foam eyes were now dark and untelling and his mouth was twisted in a ugly snarl that lay upon his lips.

This wasn't right, he reeked of alcohol and cologne to the point it was overbearing.

"What do you want?" She had aimed for it to sound demanding but the words fell flat as they left her lips.

Draco chuckled, shifting his body towards her until he was practically pushed up against her frame. "What do I want?" He repeated, voice rife with sarcasm. "Why didn't you tell me about him."

"What?" Eleanor could smell the overpowering alcohol fanning from his breath as he talked. "That has nothing to do with you." She shot back. It was a rather pathetic attempt at sounding brave.

Why does he care about her and Rodger anyway?

Draco leaned closer until their faces merely touched and his lips delicately brushed her ear as he waited upon her. Eleanor could feel every breath he took trickle down her neck and make all her hairs stand on edge. She felt the tug upon her bottom lip as the pad of his thumb pulled until she could taste the alcohol stained into his skin soak upon her lips, as the other hand snaked it's way further down the wall.

"Oh but it does." He whispered.

A shiver ran down her spine. Within two minutes Draco Malfoy had managed to suck all the bravery she had out of her and turn her into a quivering mess.