arranged / dm

04

December 26th.

Draco. Draco. The name rang in the boy's head as he retreated from where Amara hid from him. His sights were set on the door where he assumed the girl would be standing—his feet led him away though he remained facing it. Something about the way she said his name echoed in his soul and shone a light so bright every small detail about himself had been illuminated for the world to see. He was completely on display—every detail, every breath, every feeling, it was all there—and she was the one responsible.
His room felt significantly darker now and while he had been assured Amara Blackwood had not been harmed fatally, something still buzzed in his head. A nagging feeling that hadn't existed before Amara had stepped into his life. Draco remained confused by his own mind.
  
The remnants of Astoria's letters were scattered on the floor. Her words of love had once meant something and now. . . now they meant close to nothing and he hadn't got a clue why. Draco stared at his wall, his hands still in fists beside his legs. His eyebrows were knitted together in thought as he rummaged through any feeling he had felt bubble up to the surface around Amara Blackwood. He knew of the anger and the disgust, but the newer things he was unsure of.
  
He didn't feel like this with Astoria, that he knew, but this was something larger in which Draco couldn't comprehend. All his life he had believed a marriage was something you weren't supposed to be happy in. He saw it first hand in his mother's eyes at seven years old. He knew a marriage with Astoria would never play out correctly because in his mind he knew something—something he didn't understand, even now.

Up to this point, everything in his future made sense. He was to be married to a woman, particularly equally as rich as his own family, and they would have children to keep his line strong. The woman would surely know he didn't love her and understand that, she'd be on the same page as him. But fucking Amara Blackwood had to strut in and completely fuck up any kind of understanding he had of the world. Anything he believed to be correct had caved in on him and he saw no way out.

Amara. The girl Draco had never paid any attention to. The girl who outshined him completely in every subject on the face of the earth. The girl who had been denied access to the Slytherin Quidditch Team courtesy of Draco. He never liked Amara. Every guy around him sought to be with her. Theodore Nott had given Draco shit about being with Astoria when he could be with Amara; they all believed Amara to be better than any girl imaginable. Draco, of course, believed they were insane. He had made it a point to bully the girl and make sure Astoria felt as though she was better than Amara. The Blackwood name never once rang in his mind.
  
Now he sat, perplexed, in his bedroom as the same girl he previously despised ran circles in his mind. Her hair, her eyes, her face, everything. That's what had Draco Malfoy so confused. She was supposed to only be a wife that he didn't care for. Astoria had written to Draco telling him to continue seeing her while married to Amara; if they didn't care about one another it didn't matter.

"If you don't love her like you do me," she had written. "Then what's the harm of keeping our relationship strong?"

The words hadn't bothered Draco. In fact he had considered them to be a good idea. But now his head chanted something new.

✩☾✩

Amara remained silent on the floor hours after Draco had left her alone. Her mind ran blank as she dozed in and out of sleep. The dark walls complemented her empty head and pressured the girl to close her eyes.

But flashes of the woods and panic rose in her every time her eyelids fell. Her shoulders rapidly rose and fell as her arms rested on her knees. She had never doubted her safety more than she did now and she refused to let her guard down now. Something nagged at her, ate at her in hopes to diminish everything in her.

The lights in the hall outside the door had been flipped off, leaving Amara in complete darkness with her own mind as she slipped into fear once more. She wondered whether her mother and father had stayed or if they wished to go back to their own Manor and left her with the demons of Draco Malfoy. Everytime his Dark Mark peered out from his sleeve she was reminded who he was—who she was. She was reminded of the type of cycle her family would be locked into if married to Draco. She did not want to be treated the way Lucius Malfoy treats his wife.

The images of her in a wedding dress circulated her mind now. Images of her lips on Draco Malfoy's in front of Wizarding families she respected.
  
She knew once she stood at that Altar with Malfoy she would be signing her life away. She would be signing her life to the Malfoy line and would never once be the person she wished to be. Hermione Granger had once told Amara that she could work for the Ministry or even Hogwarts. Those dreams, whatever small dreams they were, were crushed.

Amara's head ached as she let it fall to rest on the door, her eyes closing slowly. The silence overtook her—drowned out the noise in her mind. She silently wished for Draco to be done with her. She wished Lucius Malfoy would change his mind and seek another.

She wished her parents simply refused. Amara thought herself to be capable of keeping the Blackwood line rich and happy; she didn't need a husband to do so for her. Her sister had told her an arranged marriage could be a wonderful thing and that she should never disobey the authority of their father and the suitors' father. That together they would make it certain that they shall live a married life and nothing would get in the way of said wishes.

Amara now knew this. But she also knew she was more than capable of living on her own and being completely happy. She knew that James Indigo would be and would remain the only person she could ever truly fall for. Since a life with him was completely off the table, she hoped to live alone in her thoughts. Being dragged around with Draco Malfoy wasn't in her plans ever and she wished this was all some sick nightmare that she would wake from and laugh at.

The two sat in different rooms in silence. Their bodies still as they wondered what life could be. Neither of them were certain of what they wanted, both remained in confusion about everything. Amara fought off sleep while Draco tried to sleep. Both had their mind on opposite things. Amara's on a happy life without Draco.

She had smiled thinking of working for the Ministry and coming home to a small apartment in a Muggle part of town with sunny mornings and starry nights. The summers would be hot and full of joy while winter would bring the cold and coziness.

Draco's mind, however, was set on Amara. His confused thoughts clouded his senses and he had no way of piloting himself out of it. He thought of living in a nice house away from Muggles together, why he hadn't a clue, but he was developing a grasp for what his mind was attempting to tell him. What his mind had been trying to say for the past hour.
  
Amara Blackwood was wishing Draco Malfoy out of her life, while Draco Malfoy was wishing she'd stay.