CURSED: FROM THE BEGINNING [D.M]

-(42) he would die for her

DRACO doesn't sleep. Even despite the fact that every last muscle in his body is aching for some rest, he cannot allow himself to shut his eyes.

They stay fixated on Zilliah, his focus on her breaths. Everything he had learnt from her earlier should've made him afraid and angry. But all he felt now is some weird sort of tranquility. He doesn't know how he was able to calmly navigate through the mess of all that information. But he had, without raging out further, and he couldn't have been more content with it.

But all that he learnt leaves a small knot in the pit of his stomach. Zilliah is the Dark Lord's daughter. If the Dark Lord ever comes to know about that fact that Draco knew she was still alive, he would be dead in a heartbeat.

But that doesn't scare him all that much. Because he would die for her in a heartbeat.

He would go to the ends of the world to make sure she is safe. 'I'm yours but just not yours to save.' Her rule was made to be broken. She proved it herself.

Every man who loves will try to protect and save what he loves. Because it is always easier to die than live with that hole in your heart where your love used to be. It is always easier to be six feet underground than to be drowning in grief and loneliness for every single day of your remaining existence without them.

He pushes back the few strands of hair that had fallen onto her face and tucks them behind her ear gently, making sure not to wake her.

The Dark Lord's daughter. The princess to a whole clan of magical folk. The most powerful witch in existence.

He finds that he doesn't care about any of that. She is just Zilliah to him. His Zilliah who crazily adores the moon and the stars. His Zilliah who can be made happy with just a plate of pancakes. His Zilliah who loves books more than she loves anything else in this whole wide world. His Zilliah with those brown eyes and brunette hair, a single dimple popping through her cheek as she smiles. And gods, is he absolutely in love with this wonder before him. And he would do anything to make sure she is safe and sound.

He gets out of bed and takes a quick shower before changing into his black suit.

Even through all the chaos, he hasn't forgotten that it is the last night of January.

He is exhausted. He is worn out. He just wants to crawl back into bed with Zilliah and lay there for all eternity.

If only he could do that.

Standing in front of the mirror with his wand lit, he catches her reflection, lying in bed, her knees pulled up to her chest.

He has to keep her out of this whole mess. Especially after everything he has learnt.

And if that means he has to take a life, he'll do that.

He can do that... can't he?

Yes.

Yes, he can. And yes, he will.

Pushing the doubts to the back of his mind, he wills every last ounce of energy remaining in him to build up his walls. Then he makes his way over to the drawers, pulling out a flask from inside it.

He flicks open the lid and looks inside to see the dark purple liquid.

The Sleeping Draught.

In the past, he had asked her to take the draught a couple of times when she couldn't fall asleep at night. But she had turned the idea down saying it only makes her feel worse in the morning. That she hated the fact that it made her more weak. That it gave her a splitting headache and put her in a more vulnerable state of agony.