dragonfly || d.m. [✔]

flying lessons from draco malfoy,

T/W: Mentions of vertigo, the fear of heights.

Being with you took all my fears away.

—

a r i a  s t u n n i n g s

"I refuse," I tell him.

"As if that matters to me," he replies and it's true: it doesn't matter to him one bit. 

We're in the broom shed and he's playing with the polished handle of his Firebolt, apparently the best broom ever. He says that his broken back is healed completely, but I am skeptical about that. But then again, I'm skeptical about the entire existence of this universe.

"Please. I'm terrified," I beg as I pull my hoodie even closer. "I have vertigo."

"Get over your fear," he says, removing his school robes, his sweatshirt clearly marking out his abs. "And get over my abs," he adds as I look away.

I glare at him. "You looked away too," I protest.

"Yeah? So what, Stunnings?" he asked, pronouncing my name with his entire mouth, making it sound . . . stunning.

"Ready?" he asks as he boards the broom.

"No. Never will be," I tell him.

"Then . . ." he trailed off. And then his thin hands were wrapped around my waist, ringed fingers holding me securely and dragging me onto the broom. "Just do it."

He turned around to look into my blushing yet angry face and tapped the top of my hood. "Good girl."

I opened my mouth to reply, to say how much I hated that phrase, but all that came out was, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Why do I sound like someone just threw me into hell? Oh, right. Because Draco Malfoy had just taken off on his broom, reaching for the sky and into the heavens. Yet, it was hell for me.

I could see his smirking face, his storm like hair looking like a miniature tornado as he took for the skies. I could see the happiness in his eyes, the freedom of the wind in his soul. He was laughing happily. 

But I was screaming into his ears, probably deafening him. He shook his head, probably at me, as if I were a child of three, throwing a tantrum for an ice-cream. 

"OI! SOMEONE RESCUE ME FROM THIS PSYCHOPATH," I screamed into the sky, absolutely no one hearing me, except the blonde-haired boy beside me.

"Shut up and see this," he says and I do.

I see the sunset sky, red and orange hues spread across the vastness of the universe. If I looked behind me, I could see the blue and grey of the night sky coming up. And above me was pink. Pure, baby pink. The stars were out and the moon spread it's silvery beams.

I hadn't even realized that we had gone above the cloud cover. I loosen my grip around his waist, allowing blood circulation. When had I felt safe enough to pull him close enough to me so that I could put my arms around his stomach. Or was it instinct?

It is only then that I notice him looking up at me. "Libelle?" he asks.

"No. Aria," I say.

"You can't fool me anymore, El. I know it's you," he tells me.

"But I am not Libelle!" I protest. I cannot have him intertwined in this mess which I call my life because of me. Cannot.

"I don't believe you. The first time we went on a broom ride, Libelle did exactly what you did."

I pretend to be surprised, "You rode a broom at eight?"

"Since five," he corrects. "Please, please just tell me if you are Libelle."

I am very tempted to give myself away to him. To collapse into his arms and tell him that I've missed him. Missed him and our games.

"Mother, I got El's cooties!" he screamed, running towards Aunt Cissy.

I don't say anything. I don't believe a boy as pretty as him could have cooties. 

"Oh?" Aunt Cissy asks.

"Yes," Draco tells her very seriously.

He did this everyday after he persuaded me to kiss him, for absolutely no reason except to attract his mother's attention. I could have said something too, but I guess that I was quiet from the very beginning.

"No," I say. "I am not Libelle. I never will be."

He makes the broom head for the ground. "Okay," he says. "Okay."

Perhaps I should be happy that I have protected him from my secret; from absolute death. But the selfish part of me asks me, Why could you not think of your own happiness for once? Maybe he wouldn't have died. Maybe he would have. But you would have been happier either way.

I try my best to silence it but the sad look on Draco's face doesn't help. 

"I'm sorry for being born, everyone. I'm sorry," I whisper into the air around me, but it doesn't reach anyone's ears except the walls of the broomshed.