CURSED: FROM THE BEGINNING [D.M]

-(41) let that truth stand

ZILLIAH can see the change in Draco's eyes, the scar of his soul. He looks away and she can't blame him. How ever could she? He grew up loathing Voldemort and picturising him as a real devil for making his father the abusive maniac he had become. And there she was, the daughter of the very devil, sleeping in his arms and lying to him.

She could never blame him if he decides to run far away from her. She could never blame him if he wishes to never see the shadow of her face ever again. She could never blame him but gods, would his absence break her apart piece by piece, day by day, for the remainder of her vile existence.

But she deserves it, doesn't she?

"Why didn't you tell me before?", his voice is so small, it's barely above a whisper, the pain he felt crystal clear in the strain of it.

She just wants to cease to exist then and there. "I couldn't."

"You couldn't?" His red stained eyes shoot upto her, completely wrecked between anger and pain.

"Draco, my father doesn't know I'm alive and we had to keep it that way."

"You were afraid I'd out you?", the rage in his voice increases by every passing second.

"No."

"Why else wouldn't you tell me?"

"Draco-"

"Oh yeah, of course. Cause even after everything, I'm Draco Malfoy, right?"

"It isn't like that-"

"The son of a death eater. A death eater myself, you knew that of course. How could you ever trust me? How ever could any sensible person trust this-"

"Draco, stop!", she has to shout over him to be heard. Her breath comes out ragged and hard, as if she has just run a marathon. So does his. That seems to be the only thing they share right at that moment. "I didn't tell you because I was afraid you were going to get fucking murdered."

His lips instantly part as to say something but as the words register, no words come out. He stands there, his eyes boring into hers, making every last nerve in her strain and pain.

"Don't you understand?", her voice is hoarse, everything hurts in her to speak. "Don't you fucking understand how dangerous it would've been for you if he somehow invaded your mind and learnt about this. Draco, he wouldn't have spared you for another second." She has to pause and take a deep breath or she is sure she will crumble down to the ground. "I wasn't afraid of you. I was afraid for you! And even if you had escaped from him, do you think my people would've let you live? That my mother would've let you live? I'm their only princess for fuck's sake. The only Auclair heir."

He turns his back on her, bringing a hand upto his head and pulling at his hair strands, a low groan escaping him. She doesn't know who he is angry at. Her? Voldemort? Himself? The world? Possibly, all of it. "Tell me, everything", he demands.

"What-"

"You're supposed to be dead." He turns back in an instant, his eyes latching onto hers viciously. "I need to know how you're not. And every last thing you're holding back."

"Draco. It's not safe-"

"I don't fucking care", he howls, so loud it stuns her and she has to take a couple of steps back. She is glad he had put up the silencing charm as they entered earlier. Advancing upon her, he grits through his teeth,"I don't fucking care, alright? I need to know you. Who you are. Everything about you. Cause all the gods be damned Zilliah, even after all the lies, I'm still in fucking love with you."

She could swear her heart stopped at that exact moment. And she could swear his' did too. As if, even if it was for just a single moment, their bodies meant nothing as their souls erupted out of it, colliding as one, merging, paining, screaming, because they couldn't stand to be apart. The world will burn if they were made to.