𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒽 | 𝒟.𝑀.

54 | ﴾ Summer Feet ﴿

Back in my monstrous childhood bedroom, a strong oceanic breeze was tugging long white curtains inwards aggressively, wrapping the fabric around golden pillars framing my open balcony.

I roamed around to find appropriate summer clothing for Draco to wear on the sailboat. He seemed completely out of it after the slapping incident and all of the brandy at lunch. I was digging through drawers for clothing left behind by ex-boyfriends when he floated up behind me to help, opening and closing my personal items.

"Fuck me," he exclaimed suddenly and I jumped next to him in horror. He'd made his way accidentally into my underwear drawer within an upstanding armoire. He turned to me with gleeful, triumphant eyes, holding up a sensational one-piece with golden chains sewn between black lace, "We are taking this home."

"Get out of dere," I shoved him playfully with my cheeks going rosy.

"Why do you have so much of it?" he asked with his voice pitching, tugging at everything within his grasp. "Sweet Merlin, why did I wait seven months to fuck you in seventh year. If I had known.."

I threw a light pink t-shirt onto my comforter and went back for shorts, "My mother designs clothing. Dat includes lingerie." I paused with my forearms hanging on the edge of the spare drawer I was rifling through, "Wait... do you still 'ave my-"

"-Psycho panties?" he grinned without looking at me. "What do you think? Sometimes, I just sit at my desk and sniff them."

I dropped my jaw, staring at the side of his face where I could only see his pointy nose sticking out of his long hair, "You do not."

He lifted his cerulean orbs to me and popped his eyebrows, "Do I not?"

I contested, "No, Draco, you 'ave to give dose back."

"In your dreams," he bit his bottom lip.

The evening progressed into a hysterical affair of me dressing him in colourful beach clothing that left him frowning down in detest. The pale pink t-shirt and knee-length baby blue shorts positively horrified him. He tugged at the fabric which he undoubtedly found to be cheap and unappealing, "Madeleine, you can see way too much...detail. I can't go in public like this." It was true, you could tell that he was not lacking in size below the shorts, but he had no idea that this was a normal dynamic for bathing suits.

I snickered in the walk-in closet, where I was pulling on a seriously stringy and revealing dusty blue bikini, "People 'ere, on dis coast, we are mostly nude beaches anyways. You will be overdressed."

He walked to the edge of the closet to inspect me, leaning in the frame with his arms crossed as I searched through endless white bathing suit dresses that I had collected over the years from pricey vendors.

"Woah, woah, you're naked, Madeleine. Did you just tie together a bunch of sweater strings?" I turned around and his face deflated in misery, knowing full well that I would never again put up with him bossing me around with regard to what I could wear. His eyes shot to all of the very revealing parts of my body on the high waisted swimwear.

I walked past him, patting his cheek patronizingly, "You will survive. You can even 'old my 'and de entire time so dey all know I am yours." He turned and pinched my bare ass purely out of instinct, but the tension could still be cut by a sword in the room.

I opted to pull on a white tennis skirt and white crop top to ease his anxiety and it seemed to work.

Éduin guided us to the marina along the coastal walkway beyond the seawall, which was jam packed with tourists trying to escape the colder zones of Europe as the weather changed.