This Bitter Earth

FOURTEEN

A/N: Beta'd by the lovely Tina, AdAsttra, who doesn't yell at me when there are several hundred new words added every time she opens the doc. Thank you, my darling.

It is going to be a couple months before the next chapter comes out. I have had some serious health issues lately and although I am doing better I want to be able to devote the time and effort into it that it deserves and right now I am not able to do that.

But I am not disappearing entirely. I have a few fest pieces I am eager to work on and I am hoping to finish up another one of my stories (Light Years) in the coming weeks so This Bitter Earth is going to be put on hiatus while I take care of myself and a few easier, fun things.

Thank you everyone for reading, for sticking with this story during its WIP stage, and for commenting and supporting me and being honestly the best fucking readers a writer could ever ask for. I love you all dearly.

xx, Ik.

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Trigger Warning- Death.

Soundtrack- "Nails" by Call Me Karizma and "Heart of Wool" by Acollective

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FOURTEEN

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Draco swiped his hand across the mirror and found his own piercing eyes glaring back at him.

What the fuck had he done?

Granger hated him. She hated him for locking her up in here, for lying to her about his mark, for putting her under the imperius curse and then leaving her, hurt and covered in mud, and then stealing her away from the people she actually wanted to be with.

She didn't want him. She was just drunk.

He knew the feeling well. Waking up in the morning and rolling over to see last night's mistake snoring on your pillow. How many girls had he given some pathetic excuse about an early morning Quidditch practice and watched as the realization that the night before was nothing like what they thought it was glimmered in their tea-filled eyes?

He couldn't stand to be in the position he had put so many others in so, as soon as dawn lifted its fucking cursed head, Draco stood up, looked down at Granger still sleeping, and did the only thing he could think of.

He hid in the bathroom.

He had to face her eventually but he would do it when he was good and ready. When he was angry and able to hate her a little again.

Draco sighed.

Granger wasn't the one he hated. It was that prick looking back at him in the silver glass.

He wished Ghostie was here. She'd come floating out of the toilet and he would hold back a retch as she whizzed over to him. She'd make fun of him for running from a girl, and he would tell her to get bent and they would stand—or in her case float—around awkwardly for a moment before he snapped and said that it was just a drunken mistake and didn't mean anything and he shouldn't have to hide because it was his room anyways and...

He looked over to where he imagined Ghostie would be.

There was only steam left over from the scalding shower he had stood under for almost an hour, hoping that some sort of clarity would come to him but all he could think about was her.

The way she looked, spread open and all his. The way she sounded, sweetly begging just like she used to. And how she fucking tasted... sweet like honey, but sharp too. A rich tangy taste that he had wanted more of ever since that day in the forest. He would have gorged himself on her all night if she hadn't passed out.