Desired | Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, 18+

38

This chapter contains emotional trauma. Please read with caution.

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Isla felt as if the wind had been slammed out of her lungs, and she couldn't breathe properly. Her chest tightened, her throat strained.

Her eyes fell over the blond boy as he stood on the driveway up to her house, his coat stained by the icing dust of snow and his hair tousled.

Her fingers trailing across her thigh, she pinched herself, pushing her lips together not to gasp — but she needed to make sure she wasn't dreaming, that she didn't fall asleep next to the brunet.

Isla wasn't dreaming, and the blond indeed stood outside her house in the glacial weather, at Christmas, in the middle of the night.

She should be surprised, startled at the way he was showing up at the late hour, knowing that Theodore was staying at her house, but she tried not to be shocked.

Shaking her head, she peered over at the boy sleeping heavily in her bed before she unhooked the lock to her window, and she shoved wood wide.

The wind tugged at her sore skin underneath Theodore's oversized t-shirt, and she gasped at the cooly air. Bending over the windowsill, she stared down at him, wide-eyed and unsettled.

''What are you doing?'' She whispered, harshly yet quietly not to wake Theodore, ''What the hell are you doing—''

''Come down here, Clarke,'' Draco gritted, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glared up at her, ''I want to talk to you.''

''And I want to sleep!'' Isla shook her head, her hair dancing in the chilly seeps of wind as snowflakes pearled at the strands of it, ''It's three in the morning, Malfoy, and it's Christmas! What could you possibly want now?''

''I just told you!'' Draco snarled, shuddering as it ripped through his low vocals, ''I want to talk to you!''

''I don't want to talk to you—'' Swallowing the behavior she wished to bring upon him, she looked away, over her shoulder at Theodore, ''I can't, Malfoy.''

''Just get down here,'' Crossing his arms and raising a brow at her, Draco impatiently growled, ''For fucks sake, Clarke. You can come down here for ten minutes.''

''I can't!'' She almost hissed now, annoyed with his lack of understanding, ''Theodore is here, and you made yourself perfectly clear last time, so just leave—''

Dryly allowing his sight to gaze, he thought hard about what he could do to make her come outside. Malfoy needed to speak to her. It was Christmas, and usually — he adored the holidays but not anymore.

Now he loathed it, and just as he caught her huff out at the coldness, he stared up at the window again.

''I'll wake the whole damn house if you don't get yourself dressed and down here in the next three minutes,'' He threatened dangerously.

''No, you won't,'' Isla frowned, hugging herself tightly as her teeth began to shatter, and she could hear how Theodore was shuddering in his sleep by the open window, ''You can't even get into the house, Malfoy, and it doesn't matter. I don't want to see you—''

She was hewed off by Draco screaming loudly, at the top of his lungs almost, and it caused her to slam the window shut. Turning around and looking startled at the brunet as he dreamt.

Malfoy hushed, but for only a second before he inhaled, sharply, and he shouted again, throaty, raspy — yet it made the windows clinker and her veins to flood in panic.