Stay With Me

Chapter 2

The kitchen was brisk the following morning and Draco felt the cool air nipping at his cheeks, despite the bloom of Summer on its way. He'd wrapped up under an oversized long-sleeve shirt, pulling the sleeves over his hands as he apprehensively appeared at the door. The house was eerily quiet, aside from the creak of the occasional floorboard and after several moments he concluded that Harry was gone.

It felt strange being alone in a house that wasn't his. Harry had clearly done well for himself, no surprises there, at least he wasn't around to rub it in.

He'd slept terribly. Tossing and turning in a bed that felt too big and too cold, clearly unslept in for many months and when he finally did drift off, he bolted back awake from another nightmare. Running on less than three hours of sleep, he slumped against the counter, trying to rub away the mild headache from his temples.

Harry wasn't wrong about the lack of food. His refrigerator was empty aside from a few jars of preserve and sauces, half a carton of milk, eggs and a small tub of butter. The cupboards were no better either. He noticed a few tins and boxes of crackers, most likely stale, but not much else.

Draco's stomach rumbled as he'd slept through dinner the night before and luckily he caught sight of half a packet of oat biscuits in a tin by the stove.

At first, he felt bad for taking one, but Harry must've spent a fortune on eating out every day, surely he wouldn't care if one biscuit was missing. Draco planned to replace them anyway.

He sat down at the kitchen bench with a mug of tea, his elbow on the table, cheek in the palm of his hand while he nibbled his biscuit.

Once he was satisfied that he really was alone in the house, he pulled a small black leather-bound diary out from the pocket of his sweatpants and laid it out on the table, flicking the page to the current week.

Saturday 4th, 1:00pm

Richmond Hotel, Lochlan Street

Only one today. He could handle that.

He closed his eyes and forced the last of the biscuit down, no longer hungry.

Back in his bedroom, a plain white shirt and black trousers were laid out across his bed, the only smart clothes he owned that he'd purchased after three days of hard work.

He got dressed and faced the full-length mirror, picking up the black belt and snaking it around the loops of his trousers before fastening it.

She likes them smart, and the belt has other uses.

Looking back at his face in the mirror, his eyes were dark and puffy and his hair was a mess but he didn't care. Dread coursed through the pit of his stomach and his chest was heavy, even just moving his feet felt impossible.

His mind was a blur of emptiness. Feeling numb and lost, taking each painful day as it came.

He could've climbed straight back into bed and stayed there for good but someone was waiting for him. He had to make his money, especially if he wanted to get some decent food in the house.

***

Room 306.

He hesitated, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the silence to settle him one last time before he knocked on the door and waited, heart hammering through his chest.

The latch clicked on the lock and the door peeped open where a woman on the other side looked Draco up and down, then smiled, raising her brow tastefully.