Inferno | Draco Malfoy

103 | The Very Breath of Life

It is the next day.

And while it is not yet dawn, the first light of morning is beginning to emerge, casting a soft glow over the landscape. The world outside is still shrouded in a gentle hush, the kind that comes just before the day fully awakens.

Yesterday had proved to be a tumultuous day for me; I was unable to behave as my true self, constrained by the weight of unspoken words and hidden feelings.

And I awaited his arrival from his mission, with my heart oscillating between hope and trepidation, until I ultimately surrendered to sleep for four hours. During that period, Draco Malfoy returned home, and I am convinced that he has read Etain's letter and is aware of my knowledge regarding the letters and roses, for I had intentionally left a drawing of a rose and deliberately positioned the protruding brick near his table, a silent communication that I hoped would convey significant meaning.

Moreover, I sensed his return through subtle signs; the protruding brick had now been returned to its original place, and upon awakening, I discovered my rose drawing placed beside my nightstand, prompting me to rise abruptly from my slumber. I sought him in the study room, but he was nowhere to be found, and the empty room only echoed my disappointment, and I felt a pang of longing for his company.

In light of this, I awoke Mippy, the house-elf, and asked if she had any information regarding his whereabouts. Still in a state of drowsiness, she conveyed that he must have ventured out alone, to the one place we both acknowledged he would frequent at this hour, for over the course of the past month, I have been receiving these roses much more often, at a set time, bringing my total to thirty-one roses.

Consequently, I now find myself nearing the rose bush with my robe securely fastened around me for warmth, while my heart is set out to find him.

Each step I take is laden with anticipation, and I can almost hear the soft rustle of the burgeoning leaves as if they are sharing secrets of affection and longing. I inhale deeply, allowing the delightful freshness of the air to envelop me, grounding me in the present moment.

I can only hope that Draco Malfoy will be near the rose bush and that I will finally have the chance to express the feelings that have been bottled up inside me for far too long, as the sun begins to ascend, and with its rise, I hold onto my hope, envisioning the words I long to say, the confessions that have been trapped in the depths of my soul.

And as I continue to walk along the path I rarely choose, the world around me seems to shift and blur, the familiar becoming foreign with each step I take.

Until I eventually come to a halt in my tracks, captivated by the roses surrounding me, their vibrant colours standing out against the muted backdrop of the early morning mist. The petals glisten with dew, each droplet catching the light like tiny jewels, and I find myself momentarily lost in their beauty.

But, most of all, I see my blond Knight, who stands with his back to me, framed by the riot of red. His posture is relaxed yet somehow poised as if he is in tune with the serenity of the moment.

The sight of him prompts a sigh of relief to escape my lips, a soft sound that dissipates into the chilly, misty air. It hangs there for a moment, a delicate wisp of warmth in the coolness surrounding us.

As he turns to look at me, in his sleek black suit, the world seems to pause and the time appears to stand still, as if the universe itself has paused to witness this singular moment.

His grey-blue eyes, bright and clear, meet mine with an intensity that triggers a flutter of butterflies within me, igniting a spark of fire that courses through my veins.

In his gaze, there exists a flicker of recognition, an unarticulated connection that surpasses the boundaries of spoken language, weaving an invisible thread that connects our souls in a way that feels both ancient and new.