Babygirl (SEQUEL to Fuckboy - Draco Malfoy)

21. merry and bright.

"You must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it."

"Oh! Certainly," cried his faithful assistant. "No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

Draco paused, steeling a glance at Evangeline, slumbering by his side.

God, was this where she learned it? Her tendency to give him hell, constantly? Did she learn it all from that damned muggle book? He chuckled to himself, smiling at her unassuming form.

"Are you so severe upon your own sex as to doubt the possibility of all of this?"

"I have never saw such a woman. I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe united."

Draco had Evan's gifted book in his lap, reading it underneath the light of his wand and trying not to make too much noise each time he turned the page.

He knew why it was her favorite book. Elizabeth Bennet was just as headstrong and studious and ambitious as Evangeline. And, Draco thought, Mr. Darcy might have been as arrogant and rude and standoffish as he was.

Maybe he would learn something. But for now, he could not help chuckling at the strange wording that Austen used, and the mundane difficulties that muggles dealt with in the 1800's. It would have all been hell of a lot simpler if the Bennet sisters either were born with magical blood or talked in normal-people English, instead of using twenty words to describe something that would ordinarily take like . . . three.

"Elizabeth Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion—"

"D?"

Draco looked over. Evan opened her sleepy eyes, looking at him quizzically through the darkness. He felt caught, as if he had been found out.

"Well, if it isn't my little Christmas present," Draco murmured, closing the book and keeping his thumb in it to mark the page.

Evan pulled the comforter closer around herself. He chuckled at her tendency to curl up entirely in blankets, tucking the bunched comforter between her knees and tucking a particularly fluffy section under her jaw.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"5:03."

"In the morning?" Evan asked, her eyes flying wide open.

"No, Evangeline. It's five pm. You missed Santa Claus and he's pissed," Draco answered, smirking at her through a feigned eye-roll.

"Have you not been to bed yet?" she asked worriedly, shifting up onto an elbow.

Draco had not, as it happened.

"Come sleep with me," Evangeline mumbled, raising an expectant hand.

"I think I already did," he teased, setting Pride and Prejudice to the side. Evan sighed against his touch, the lingering stroke of his hand on her cheek. She shifted closer to him, tossing the comforter over his shoulder.