"Don't open it."
"Why?" I ask, holding the letter tentatively, as if it's a bomb about to go off.
"Just don't. Don't read it today," he says, a beg to his voice.
"Why'd you give it to me if I'm not supposed to open it?" I huff. I look down at the wax seal. It seems to be the Malfoy family crest—an 'M' in black wax.
"I'm not gonna hide it from you. But. . .don't read it today," he says again. "Anything my mother needs to say to you can wait."
"This is from your mother. . ." I say, my eyes wide. "What did she say? What's it about?"
"She just told me to give it to you. That's it," he says.
I look down at the letter in shock. What could possibly be written upon the supple white parchment? 'Stay away from my son'?
"You really don't want me to read it?" I ask, but I'm reluctant.
"Please don't."
I release a sharp breath and nod, stashing the letter with Onyx's in a parcel box for safekeeping.
Draco sets the parcel from his parents on the coffee table, not even willing to look further inside. From peeking at the wrappings, I can see that they sent on a variety of gifts for him to open, all laid within the box. He doesn't go near it again, instead turning towards me.
"Did your parents get you anything?" Draco asks, giving me a light smile. It's clear that he does not want to talk about the letter anymore and, while I'm bubbling over with questions and ready to tear it open, I smile back at him and embrace the change of subject.
"Ha. No," I say, shuffling closer.
"Why not?" he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. "Do they hate Christmas, too?"
"I don't hate Christmas," I say with a gasp, deflecting the questions.
"You're only saying that because I'm here with you this year," Draco retorts.
"Yes, yes I am," I say, biting my lip. "If you weren't here . . . fuck Christmas."
Draco chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist.
He sighs. "Don't think you've gotten out of spilling your family trauma with me," he teases. "Misery loves company, after all."
"I don't have family trauma," I scoff.
"Do they ever send you Christmas gifts?" he asks, furrowing his brows again. "Or . . . birthday gifts?"
". . . no."
"Filthy muggles," he teases, but I can tell this new information is bothering him. He's looking at me with a disgusting sympathy.
I sigh, then I let it spill. "My parents are . . . afraid of me."
"Well, I can see why. I've felt your right hook."
"Okay, that's enough sharing," I say. He tries to protest, but I reach for the pitcher of hot chocolate, pouring two mugs out.
I take sips of mine while he grovels.
"I was just kidding, please tell me," Draco says, setting his full mug down. "Evan . . ." he says, and then grips both sides of my face. "Tell me."
"There's nothing to tell," I chuckle, leaning back from him because he was squishing my cheeks together and making me spill hot chocolate down my chin.
He takes my mug from me and I shout 'oi!" but he's already tackling me down into the couch and planting tickling kisses on my neck.
"Draco!" I shriek, giggling and trying to push him off.
"Tell me about your parents. I'm a great listener," he says into my neck.
"Oh yeah, the greatest," I say sarcastically. He leans up and glares at me, so I break. "It's not dramatic, we just aren't close."
"Elaborate," he says.
"I'm not going to sit here and cry into your shoulder, if that's what you're expecting."
"For fuck's sake woman, just spill it."
I let him rest his folded arms across my chest, leaning his chin into them. I shift under his weight, as he's completely on top of me, sprawled out and smothering me into the couch.
"Well, my parents are very . . . normal," I start. "My mother is a doctor, my father is a uni professor. And they're . . . very traditional. And therefore religious."
"Religious?" Malfoy asks. I laugh.
"Yeah, there's these things called churches-"
"I took Muggle studies, E," he says, looking up at me.
"Okay, then you should know that me being a witch is a threat to their religion," I say. "They literally think I'm the antichrist."
Draco touches the angel wings around my neck, smirking up at me. I glare at him, knowing he's thinking about my Halloween costume.
"Haha, very funny," I say, and I reach up and start playing with his hair. I rake my fingers through it as I continue to explain. "They don't understand this world, and they don't want to believe it exists. So, after I started school, we rarely speak. I mean, I go home over the summer holidays because I have no where else to go to, but I usually spend most of my time out of the house. I didn't even go home at all last summer. I just spent three months traveling around."
"Where did you go?" Draco asks.
"Various places around Britain, other countries in Europe. I stayed in hostels and such, or just wandered around. Once I turned 17 and passed the Apparition test, I could go pretty much anywhere."
"But how did you live like that? I mean . . ."
"My parents give me plenty of money. I think they see it as a moral obligation—to ensure that I don't starve," I say, and I chuckle even though it's not all that funny.
Draco gazes at me, shocked by my life story. He even looks sad.
"Don't look at me like that," I chuckle. "It wasn't like I was miserable. It was a joy of a time, really. I met loads of interesting people, broadened my global understanding. . ."
"So when you say you're going to travel after school ends, you really mean it," Draco says.
I laugh. "Yes."
Draco leans up, placing his hands on the couch cushion next to each side of my head. I'm reminded of the previous night and feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.
"I'm in," he says, smirking.
"In what?" I ask with a confused laugh.
"Well . . . if you want . . . maybe I'll come along," Draco says, smiling down at me. "Since I'm probably going to be disowned, anyway."
My eyes widen. This sounds like . . . commitment. A future, a plan—a world in which we are not destined for failure.
There's a whole world out there.
I stare up at Draco in shock and his face falls, maybe thinking I wouldn't want him to travel the world with me.
I lunge up and crash my lips to his.
"Mmm," he groans, gripping my face. I kiss him passionately and recklessly, arching my back against him and furrowing my brows. He kisses me back with raw intensity, with intention.
When he starts trailing his lips down my neck, I grasp at his hair for dear life, feeling his hips move against mine.
"D?" I gasp.
"Hm?" he mumbles on my neck.
"I adore you."
He chuckles on my skin. "We're a long way from hate, hm?"
I chuckle along.
Then I wrap my arms around his neck and I hold on.
YOU ARE READING
Fuckboy {Draco Malfoy 18+}
Fanfiction"You want to know what I taste like?" I say, leaving my mouth slightly open. I can feel Malfoy's breath on my lips. He doesn't answer, but his breath hitches as he looks down. "You really want to know?" "Just do it," Malfoy barks. "So I can have som...
