Dark Future (Next Generation)

N I N E T E E N | K.M.

January 16, 2021

Kayden Malfoy's POV

Another night, another three bottles of the strongest Fire Whiskey to keep me company. I know I promised Mum I wouldn't drink, but it's the only thing that helps me not think anymore.

I'm so tired of thinking.

Especially since I told Ophelia over two weeks ago that I'm in love with her and she has barely even glanced my way since. She's still with James, hanging from his arm like a rag doll.

I brought the whiskey to my lips and chugged a couple shots of it down, feeling the exhilarating burn go down my throat and the warmth begin to bleed through my stomach. My head was immediately lighter, so light in fact, that I had to rest it against the wall.

It was a couple minutes later when I heard the click of a lighter.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I opened my eyes to see a head of flaming ginger hair standing with her back to me. The silhouette of her dainty fingers pressed against each side of the paper on a cigarette. I saw her chest inflate with the inhale and, as if this moment couldn't be more Pinterest-worthy, she tilts her head to the sky, letting her hand fall limply to her side as she huffed out the puff of smoke.

I took another sip of mead as I watched her, my mind going fuzzy. I'm definitely almost drunk already. I've only been out here for an hour, and I've been chugging this Fire Whiskey as if it is water.

When I put the bottle back down rather loudly against the cement ground next to me, the girl turned around in a blink.

Her arms crossed, the cigarette smoking from her hand. Her silky, curly, ginger hair draped over her shoulders in the most perfect way. Her eyes were big and blue with nerves and anxiety etched in them. She was tense, but she was definitely one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen.

My brain shouted Ophelia's name, but then another thought forced itself into it. She's still with James, after everything.

I recognized the girl in front of me right away. Her younger brother, Louis, is best friends with Grant. She is the Head Girl. Year 7. Gryffindor.

Dominique Weasley.

I flashed her a drunken smile. "Why hello, Miss Weasley."

She deflated, the tenseness of her body lightening. She took another drag of her cigarette. When she spoke, the smoke poured from her mouth in a rather delicious way. "Out after hours, Mr Malfoy?"

The way she said Mr made my stomach twist in a really good way. I pushed the feeling down, taking another chug of my whiskey.

When I pulled back, Dominique looked rather surprised at my ability to drink as heavily as I do.

"Yes," I smacked my lips. "I prefer to drink when teachers aren't lining the corridors, thanks."

She huffed out a breath. She glanced to her cigarette and back up to me. "I don't smoke often. My mother would kill me. I only smoke when I'm overwhelmed."

"Why are you overwhelmed?" I asked her. I would rather talk about other people's problems than my own. It's rather therapeutic hearing other people's fucked up lives so that mine seems dramatic and unworthy of the sulking.