𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

thirty

"Draco," she calls, a heavy breath skimming through her strangled voice. "Draco - "

Numerous pair of bright eyes belonging to eerie paintings glide across the lustreless hallway as the girl and boy storm past them, the girl chasing after the boy.

Betty doesn't know her way through the manor, but she follows him, entering various paths of the house she hasn't yet explored.

Finally, a door with a decorous golden knocker swings open at the end of the corridor and Draco enters it readily without a single glance back from his drooped head.

She thinks he might slam the dusky door in her face, but instead, he reaches out a stiff hand from the room, yanks her in violently.

When she enters, her eyes take a while to adjust to her dim surroundings - dimmer than the rest of the manor, which she doesn't think possible.

The room is scattered with books, slanted from their stacks and spilling all over the bed, that's emerald sheets are rumpled from day's of unkemptness and restlessness. Dust befalls the shelves and them.

In the shadows, she makes out the thick textiles of the curtains, billowed out and closed to block out any brightness that might blight the room.

Draco has his ringed-hands in his ruffled hair, wayward strands spiralling over his forehead from its usual neatness - from the neatness that held him together just hours ago; but a lot has changed since hours ago, when they laid playing with each other's hands in the Astronomy Tower, a lot more pressing matters compared to his hair.

"Draco," she says again, and notices the tension in the outline of his shoulder. "Turn around and look at me."

He doesn't turn. The only movement she receives from him is the fingers on his hair twitching in aggravation, silver rings hitting each other.

"You shouldn't have came," he tells her, and she can imagine the look on his face; the look of throbbing tribulation.

She finds herself wanting to scoff at his words. "No? Should I have stayed back in school then?" she says instead, "In the Astronomy Tower. Like you deserted me to?"

"Linny - "

"No!" she cuts him off, grabbing him by his shoulders where a jacket is missing. "You'll talk while looking at me. You owe me at least that."

He draws a long breath before turning around aversely, making her take back her hands before he could catch them in his - she knows too thoroughly that if he does, she might melt into him.

Coldness sweeps over them. His sooty eyes move down to her jaw where a cut scars her face. She notices the way his eye twitches in worry, but he doesn't speak on it.

"You shouldn't have followed me here," he repeats again, his eyes unable to reach hers, his voice a cutting edge.

She looks into his eyes, see the discomfort and uneasiness in them that she thought they had transcended. "I heard you the first time. Isn't there anything else you have to tell me?" she asks, desperation lacing her tone.

"You've witnessed everything," he says, strolling away from her and sitting on the small corner of the bed that isn't occupied with books. "What more do you want to know?"

Fury spikes the bed of her stomach, but she tries to contain it. "How long have you been lying to me, Draco? "

His gaze meets hers briefly before he is looking away again.

"Since the start of the year," he replies coldly.

He is not hesitating, decidedly pointed with his answer, as if too worn of energy to beat about the bush. She thinks it is him being aggravated with her, but for him, he simply couldn't find it in himself to lie to her further.