BEHIND CLOSED DOORS | D.M

039 | birthday boy

"Did you think I maybe wanted to know about this?" Kallista hisses as she drags Draco into the living room.

"I'm sorry," he presses, rubbing the back of his neck as a tint of cerise coats his cheekbones. "I didn't want to bring it up during the honeymoon."

"Okay, well, what about after the honeymoon?" As Kallista blinks up at the blond, evident annoyance has drawn itself upon her face. She folds her arms over her chest, the line in between her brows deepening with every excruciating second of silence.

"I don't know," he replies in a huff, flickering his gaze away, seeming as though he can't hold her burning and overbearing glare. "I just forgot."

"You forgot?" she echoes in a whisper. "Draco, I—" When Kallista pauses, a soft scoff flies past her lips as she shakes her head in disbelief. "That's not something you just forget."

He takes a step forward, almost catching her hand in his but refrains from doing so when he notices the flash of fury in her eyes. "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad," she mumbles, looking away to settle her gaze upon a family portait hung above the fireplace, embers crackling and blazing in the hearth, their relaxing sounds awaking an automnal nostalgia around the large living space.

A warm feeling pushes at her heart at the sight of the painting of young Draco smiling. Though his smile is humble and modest, his eyes sparkle with joy and warmth—something she has rarely seen in his silver hues when they were in school. Cassiopeia stands behind him, her hand placed on his shoulder whilst she beams brightly as she stands in between Narcissa and Lucius who pose elegantly, faint smiles ghosting their lips.

Life had seemed so easy, so simple, at the time. But Kallista always knew secrets within the Malfoy family were kept behind closed doors.

"Yes, you are," he notes quietly. "Look at me, Kallista."

When she meets pearly grey eyes, a wave of consolation seeps through her veins. Looking into Draco's eyes always feels like coming home after having spent days away. Feels like being pulled into an adored embrace by an invisible string. Feels like watching a sea of stars, a pool of starlight.

"What about the London flat?" Her voice is barely audible, but venom is still coating the tip of her tongue. "I love it there."

"I do too," he voices abruptly. Carefully, he reaches out to her, hands placed on her wrists to unfold her arms. She lets him do it, reluctantly so, but allows him to lace his fingers through hers. It takes everything in her willpower to ignore the flutter inside her chest. "This place feels like home to me, too. I don't think I've ever felt this way about a house before."

"Then why?" A slight waver in her whisper can be heard as her blue eyes are swamped with a pining melancholy. "Why do you want to cage me here?"

"I'm not caging you, baby." Draco's warm hands travel up her arms until he cradles her face, fingers under her jawline whilst one of his thumb caresses her cheekbone. She can't help but lean into this tender touch. "I hate reminding you of it, but it's just part of the contract."

Kallista doesn't say anything. Doesn't know what she should be saying. She feels trapped. Forced against her will to be coming in this house. She knows Draco has never been able to call this place a home, and he surely won't ever call it a safe space whilst being under the influence of an agreement.

"We can go back to the flat whenever you want," he claims softly when she doesn't so much as utter a word. "We can hang over there—read your books, watch those muggle tv shows I enjoy so much, cook, go on the rooftop to look at the stars."