𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 | Draco Malfoy

NINETEEN | know it's for the better

WARNING:
CNC
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Being pulled back into the real world feels like a punch in the gut. His arm around my waist isn't the thing that makes me realize where I am, because that feeling reminds me of Draco, waking up together on lazy mornings at Hogwarts.

No, it's when I try to open my eyes, and the darkness doesn't leave. I am blindfolded.

I don't know how much time passes before he wakes up. I feel that shift in his body, slowly stirring and groaning. He's too comfortable. It's a wonder he even gets any sleep at all. Do the faces of his victims haunt him in his dreams?

"Good morning," He mumbles, his lips brushing my shoulder. "Did you sleep well?"

Again— is he serious?

"No." I say, desperate to get my sight back— I've never appreciated it enough.

"That'll come," He says. His weight shifts in bed, I think he's sitting up. "I'll go make you something to eat, you must be starving."

I hum something, unable to get a full answer out. Once I'm sure he has left the bed, I roll over on to my side, hugging my arms around myself.

Just survive, B. That's all you gotta do.
You can't escape if you're dead.

I take myself to a safe place in my mind, thinking of times I did feel comforted— happy, and I stay there for a moment. I used to do this all the time when Dad got drunk and was stomping about the house, I had to use something as a distraction.

After a while, my nightmares come back into the room, carrying a delicious smell with him. Even though I am nauseous from everything that has happened, my stomach grumbles at the scent.

"Sit up for me, Blair." He says, as his weight presses down into the side of the bed. I push myself up, identifying the scent as pancakes, my favorite breakfast dish. I shouldn't be surprised he knows it. "Good girl. Open your mouth."

I want to eat by myself, but arguing will do no good. So I open my mouth, and he feeds me gently. Pancakes and whipped cream, he even added some fruits. At least I have that to be grateful for.

He wipes my mouth with his thumb when things get messy, and I even believe we're sharing a fork, but it doesn't bother me enough to care.

"Thank you." I say softly when I'm done eating. He presses a glass into my hands, so I bring it to my lips, swallowing down the water. My throat burns as the water slides down my throat.

I finish the glass and he takes it from me, placing the dishes down on the nightstand— I think.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. I'll untie you and take off the blindfold after that, okay?" He says, his weight leaving the bed. Relief settles in my chest, my ankles have been tied for hours and hours. I nod, laying back down. I wait.

I'm being kind to him out of fear, but it's taking me so much energy. I want to yell, I wanted to throw that glass at him— smash that plate over his head. But I can't. Good girls don't do that, and I have to be good for him. Everything to survive.

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Time passes and I only grow more anxious of what's to come today. What does the Shadow do daily?