Fatal Attraction | D.M. (Soft Rewrite)

Chapter Fifty-One - The Casualties

Millicent paused outside the hospital wing. Stalling by the threshold, without warning, so Flint bumped into her side.

'Somethings not right...' She mumbled, to herself. Pressing two fingertips to the bridge of her nose and applying more pressure, as she tried to unravel her thoughts.

'How superstitious! Are you having a premonition?' Flint teased, to be harshly swatted in the stomach with the back of her hand.

'Yes which involves you - St Mungo's - and an untreatable curse that locks your mouth shut!' She practically growled, over her shoulder.

'How devastating for you,' Flint replied, playing the part of a sympathetic, doting boyfriend - while debating what rude innuendo to use. 'You wouldn't last a day without my mouth... Talking to you...kissing you...tasting you-'

'-I'd manage!' Millicent seethed, not willing to agree, despite the way her thighs instinctively pressed together.

'So what's wrong?' Flint asked, diverting their conversation back to the start.

'Nothing and...well everything,' she answered bitterly and too simply for Flint to glean much more than the obvious.

'I know it won't be nice...seeing him like this - but he needs us. He'll be bored on his own,' Flint murmured, quietly. Trying his best to reassure Millicent, by running his hands across her front and dragging her close. Appreciating the way her lithe body, slotted against his chest. And the way she listened while he kept going. 'I never know what to say,' he rasped, pressing his lips along the soft expanse of her neck, 'I need you there to fill the insufferable silences and handle the small talk.'

When Millicent didn't respond, Flint seized her wrists and spun her around. Seeking eye-contact, by dipping to meet her downturned face, while intertwining their fingers. Imploring her to listen with his most serious expression.

'He's finally lucid after being stuck in bed for two weeks. He'll be bored witless if we don't visit.'

'I get that,' she accepted, stubbornly.

'Then what're you worried about?'

'-I'm not worried!' Millicent retaliated, before amending herself. 'Well, I'm not worried about him.'

'What?' Flint whispered under his breath, sounding appalled. 'How can you say that? He almost died!'

'Oh don't look at me like that!' Millicent snapped, indignantly breaking their hands apart, to rest on her hips. 'I have my reasons!'

'Spill it,' Flint demanded, folding his arms over his chest, 'and fast - or I'll go alone-'

'-Wait - listen,' Millicent pleaded, to buy herself more time. Lowering her voice, so they wouldn't be overheard. 'I want to see him - I do... But I can't wrap head around it all. Nothing makes any sense-'

'-It never will,' Flint sighed, loosening his arms to take hold of Millicent's shoulders. 'Everything's gone to shit because of Draco and right now - we need to be there for the casualties.'

'But I-' She started to say, until her boyfriend bluntly cut her off, by continuing his rambling.

'-Phi's not herself. She doesn't eat, or smile. She's heartbroken.'

Millicent looked to the ground, sombrely. With no reason to argue over that account.

'And we had to continue our lives, as normal, while healers spent two weeks trying to fix every bone in that boy's body,' Flint exclaimed, almost shaking with fury. 'I know Blaise can be a dick but that doesn't excuse Draco's behaviour!'