better off | d.m.

35.penitent

Would you look at that?

The night before, Sage woke up expecting to be in Draco's warm embrace, but wasn't.

This morning, she fully expected to be alone—yet there he lays, next to her in Pansy's bed.

His back is to her, moving slowly as he breathes evenly in his sleep. He's far away, seemingly at the edge of the bed and wears a hoodie while slumbering away, which is very unlike him.

He kept a respectful distance in every way possible but he still couldn't let them be distanced.

Her heart warms at the fact that he seeked her out. She would love to do the same and reach for him, but she's still mad. Just thinking back on what occured yesterday, she get's filled with indignation.

Turning her head, she reads 9:58 am. They have slept through the first class. Great.

Also unusual. Draco never sleeps through but she reckons he must have been overtired from the time in Malfoy Manor.

Rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hands, Sage very languidly gets off the bed, feeling as though her bones weigh a tonne more than usual. Curling herself into the armchair in the corner of the room, she drowns her hands in the sleeves of the sweatshirt of his she wore to sleep.

It doesn't take a full minute for him to stir and blink his eyes in order to adjust to the light, as if he felt her presence. His head turns to check for something, to check for her, and when he finds the space empty, he scans the surroundings.

Until his eyes land on her in the dark corner. His lips curve in an ever so slight smile.

"Morning."

"I came here for a reason," she says, as cold as stone, voice heavy with sleep just like his. "To be alone."

"And I'm not waking up without you by my side," he speaks as he leans against the headboard, rubbing his eyes how she did when waking up.

She didn't miss the quiet grunt he gave because of the bruise on his rib—a reminder of what occured not too long ago. He tried to hide it but that never works out well when she knows him like the back of her hand.

"I did," the words fall out of her mouth. "I woke up alone."

And without saying much more, he understands what that must have felt like. How unsettling the feeling is in the midst of a war.

The corner of his lips tug down, matching the frown she wears.

"I'm sorry, Blossom. I didn't mean to leave that way."

Her gaze falls to her hands where she twists and turns the black diamond ring. Her knees are tucked close to her chest, halfway blocking the sight of him.

You could have woken me up.

I could have come with you.

I could have helped you.

You're not alone.

"We both overslept," she mutters. "But you could make it to the next class if you hurry."

His back peels from the headboard, hands resting on his knees. "I don't care for class right now."

Silence. A long one.

He's staring and after a while, her eyes lift to meet his.

"You still want to get my cold shoulder or tell me what the fuck happened?"

"How about neither?"

She gives him a blank stare. Unimpressed.

"This is not the time to be playful right now, Draco," she drones. "I will be angry with you for the rest of our life, as long as you don't tell me what the fuck happened. Our wedding photos will be ghastly because I'll pull a constant face."