The Cabin | D.M 18+

E I G H T

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TW: Themes of blood and knife play. Viewer discretion is advised.

- BELLE -

My heart rumbled like the thunderstorm outside, perhaps a little louder. My weeping like the creaks of the winds and tears threatening to fall like the downpour thrashing against the windows.

His palm squeezed my throat, just enough so I could still breathe but my sight was forced to look up at the ceiling as his hot breath purred against my right ear.

'Snooping around I see?' Draco murmured, his voice sleepy and low - but still sinister enough to incite fear beyond recognition.

Refusing to usher any word, I let him thrive in his moment. It's not like he would kill me - right?

He had the opportunity before, and could've done it by now. So what's to stop him this time? Draco said himself, if Voldemort has use for me, then he plans to use that to his advantage before him.

And I was somewhat thankful that I only knew what it could do. But I didn't have the full knowledge of it. Not like Thomas had.

Obviously my parents had the same, were taught the same. Thomas had seen it all. His brother's training. How energy consuming it was and its dangers.

Only he found out everything the day I was conceived. And by then he was already in his early thirties.

I've barely made it to my early twenties so I knew I still technically had a long way before I could master it all.

Clearly I had a tendency of getting caught - especially at the hands of Malfoy himself.

I wasn't merely close to being fully trained like Draco was. Although we had opposing skills and mindsets, whatever he did, he was a master.

And all I was was a trainee. With it anyway. It wouldn't fall far for him to use it to his full advantage.

Take what Voldemort wants. Even if I didn't know how to. And neither did he. But we both knew one thing. This journey is far from over.

'You are making living here a nuisance for me darling,' Draco seethed, his heartbeat unmatched to mine. It was more than surprising to see just how calm and collected he was.

It was like this was his bread and butter. The pea to his pod. Was his daily life like this all the time?

Filled with violence and hatred? So much that your blood turns to boil against the fire in your chest? Because if that were the case, it seemed tiring.

I couldn't hate that much. To be so tense all the time; it felt so unnatural to me.

Unless this was the norm. And that just made me pity him. I knew that Lucius wasn't the greatest to him. Always had him on edge and on a few occasions I could see just how badly Draco wanted to impress his family.

And I don't think I've ever seen him praised for his hard work. So no wonder his attitude always stinks.

'Look at yourself,' He let my throat go down slightly. And as my hues fell forward, I noticed the large, silver and rusted mirror beside his bookshelf.

Roaming my aqua's over how he trapped me in his hold. Manacled by pounds of his muscly flesh. Still topless, still mesmerizingly aromatic.

And I hated how my body and mind reacted to him. Despite my hatred, I watched his flaring veins across his skin.