Desired | Draco Malfoy & Theodore Nott, 18+

47

He stood frozen before her. Isla didn't quite dare to look him in the eyes just yet. She was terrified he'd pin her down with his rage of her doing the exact opposite of what she was meant to do.

She wasn't supposed to be there. She knew that. There was a clear, obvious reason why he didn't invite her — as to why he didn't ask her to come. He didn't want her there. He didn't wish for her presence, but as the girl Isla so very clearly lived to be — she showed up anyway.

She didn't know why. Not owning a clue how she even reached the thought, nevertheless stood on his doorstep at four in the morning.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, she cursed to herself.

''What the hell are you doing here?'' Draco spat furiously. His shoulder struck the doorpost, his arms crossed, ''What in the actual fuck do you think you're doing here?''

Isla blinked, surprisingly and quickly. She was scared now.

Malfoy scanned her. His sight traveled slowly. Nearly painfully slow across her. Watching her nightdress as it showed underneath her robe, her bare legs, and her shivering skin, ''You didn't even put clothes on, Clarke?'' He cocked his head, swallowing hard, ''It's four in the fucking morning.''

''I know it is,'' Her eyes floored. She was ashamed now. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. He was mad at her, so angry that it fumed around him. So mad that it was heard in his speaking. So furious that it reached her from feet apart, ''I know what the bloody clock is.''

Draco himself stood in a white t-shirt. His chest flexing underneath the thin material. His pants were checkered, colored in green and black. She tried so hard not to look at him. She wouldn't be able to stop if she did.

Malfoy hooked her in ways she'd never admit. He had a spell on her and the sanity her mind still carried slipped between her fingers the second he came close — the second she placed her eyes upon him.

''And if you know what the damn time is, Clarke — and you're still showing up at my house this early, something is wrong with you.'' Draco shook his head, drawing a deep breath. It burnt within him. He didn't expect her to come. He didn't ask her to be here, ''You're acting like a maniac again.''

''Didn't you do the same thing?'' She met his eyes. Heavily colliding with the coolness of them. Cold. Icing. He looked at her. His knees weakened. His fingers balled into fists at the way it took all of him not to sweep her off her feet and kiss her, ''Christmas morning? Didn't you show up at my house in the middle of the night? When I had company, I might add?''

''That's different, Clarke, and you know it,'' He spat annoyingly. Draco couldn't deny that he'd done so. He did. He didn't want to spend time away from her that winter break, ''I showed up to tell you about...what happened to me, to make you understand me, not to spite you.''

She raised her brows, looking startlingly at him. Her fingers twitched against the palms of her hands. Her insides burning, ''You think I showed up here to spite you?''

''Does he know you're here? Where you are, right now?''

It caused her sight to flicker. Her shoulders sunk.

He knew. Of course, he knew. She could never be dishonest with Theodore, even if she wanted to. They were always truthful with each other, no matter what the cause was. Except he wasn't. She knew he had a secret. The reason he went home all the time. The reason he kept her in the dark of what he did when he wasn't with her, but she relied on him. Isla knew he would tell her once he was ready to do so.

''He does,'' She said lowly. Her sight stayed attached to the ground she so weakly stood on, ''He was the one telling me to come here.''

''He went home?'' Draco gritted his jaws, still staring at her. He couldn't believe she indeed had traveled to his house in the middle of the night. With nothing but her wand. It warmed him, yet it made him inflamed, ''He went home, and you came here? You only came because he went? Not because—''