Match Me~ Drinny

Unforgiving

Ginny regretted everything the moment heat and anger vanished. She had slammed the door on her way out and stormed down the stairs. Once she had opened her door and stomped in, she realized that tears were pouring down her cheeks.

Why did I make such a big deal of it? she thought. Why couldn't I have just listened?

Anger swept over her again. What was she? A blubbering idiot of a girl? No. She was Ginevra Molly Weasley. She was independent. Draco should have told her, even if she didn't ask. It was a big deal. He must have planned it all, the bastard. Tried to get met to love him. And the worst part is that he succeeded. Then it was just too much for him. So he broke it off. But then again...

She couldn't forget.

She curled up on the couch, snuggling under a soft blanket, not bothering to wipe the tears that still cascaded down her face. Then she recoiled, shrinking from the sofa as if it were a snake.

The smell.

The spiky, masculine scent was still on her couch, probably from the many times they had sat there in that same exact spot, laughing and talking late into the night. There were too many memories.

Ginny buried her face in Draco's hard chest, his arms wrapping securely around her as he stared into her dark eyes. She closed them and he rested his cheek against her hair, feeling the incredibly softness. She breathed in deeply, and all she could smell was him.

Ginny stood up, winding the blanket around her, closing her eyes in an attempt to shut the memories out. But they didn't. She braced herself on the dining table, and still she remembered.

Ginny was trying to struggle out of his painful grasp. Draco looked down at her angry face. She looked so delicious right there. Her hair was still down and it was mussed from their argument. He could feel her, pressed against him. "Ginevra" he whispered and leaned down.

She went to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, anything to make her forget everything.

Her hand shook unsteadily as she picked up the glass. She leaned against the counter, breathing deeply. Her eyes stared straight ahead, not seeing.

Then she saw it.

A small splash of white on the cupboard door. She walked toward it in a trance and put slender fingers on the white, rubbing against it.

Flour.

When they came up for air, Ginny took a finger and smeared a little bit of flour on his cheek, smiling. Draco shook his head at her and kissed her again, this time on her nose, which was still coated with flour. There was a smudge of white on his lips when he straightened, looking at her with those beautiful silver eyes.

She staggered backwards. Memories. The memories were swallowing her whole.

_._._._._._._._

"Draco?" Blaise knocked on the door. It was eerily quiet inside his best friend's flat.

Suddenly there was a crash, a groan, and the sound of breaking glass. Blaise ran toward the commotion, finding himself inside Draco's bedroom. What he saw floored him.

Draco was sprawled on the ground, looking more dishevelled than Blaise could ever remember him. He struggled to sit up, clutching a muggle looking bottle. It looked as though one had just shattered, and it lay in pieces around him. As Blaise watched, Draco ran a hand through his already mussed hair, and raised the bottle to his lips once again.

"Draco?" Blaise asked timidly.

Draco looked at Blaise, but his eyes were cold, as if he didn't really see him. Blaise shuddered. The only time he had seen Draco with that expression was after he'd killed his father. He had come home shaking, ghostly pale, clutching his wand and allowing no one to remove it from his grasp.