forced | d.m.

32.nightchats

May '01 | H E R

Draco kept his word.

He didn't bother Althea over the weekend. He only replied to her curt texts with a good or have fun. Never asked questions himself. Never called. No interest from his side.

She didn't like it.

Hypocritical of her, she knows.

Time and time again, totally unprompted, she found her mind drifting to him, wondering what he is up to. Is he eating as good as I am? Does he have a hard time falling asleep, too? Is he being social? Is he thinking about me? Is he glad not to deal his wife's cold shoulder for a change?

A treacherous voice envisioned the wonderful time he's having with a fling, with the house all to himself. Instead of pushing the image away like usual, she sunk into it with a turning stomach. It would be hot. It would be steamy and wild. Picture frames and vases would be pushed from the surface, smashed on the ground, to make space for their burning make out.

It's not Astoria Althea is picturing. It's a blonde for some reason, petite and giggly but with fiercly hot eyes when it counts.

They wouldn't even make it upstairs. The floor would do. He would graze his teeth against her neck, would dig his fingers into the flesh of her hips and would growl her name over and over. Just like he would Althea's.

Just as replacable.

That is when she mentally slapped herself. Draco wouldn't dig himself a deeper hole. He wouldn't be as cruel. He's rueing, truly.

But how can she be sure?

She can't. That's the problem. Not with her dignity staying intact.

It's a hell of a lot safer to put herself first.

Which would entail getting some much deserved sleep. Althea may have gotten eight hours of it in the last seventy-plus filled with tourism and alcohol and fine dining.

It was fun. She can lock that weekend into a memory box and keep it safe there.

Back home now since late evening, she had a delicious dinner thanks to Draco—a skill he's proving over and over again now that he's free and she's busy. And he has to get in her good graces. Though something tells her he would do it anyway. Candle light and a three course meal, he waited for her arrival like a good puppy.

A full stomach lulled her to sleep directly after, but it only lasted for two hours. She blames jet-lag and a stiff neck, but it might very well be the fact that she's under the same roof as him again.

Questions zoom around in her brain, making it impossible to shut even one eye. Narcissa's remedy is an herbal mixture steeped over hot water. It tastes horrendous, no matter how many times Althea has fallen back on it the past month.

Thea waits for the effects to kick in while watching few drops of rain dabble against the window. A second cup warms her palm, the other hand drawing shapes onto the marble stone, ankles crossed under the chair. Pearl is fast asleep on her lap like a darling little angel.

Safe to say, she loves her human and cuddling.

The kitchen is licked clean, not a single thing out of place, the cinnamon candle she lit perfuming the air. It's cozy and quiet enough to hear the fickle flame.

When she is drawing Flash the rabbit is when a shadow emerges from the dark hallway, gradually illuminated by the low light.

"Hey, there," Draco winks, as though it's normal to meet in the kitchen in the middle of the night.