Promises Kept, Hearts Full of Trust

18

Easily said, wasn't it?

Gathering my thoughts.

Those words are thrown around so casually, as if it's as easy as collecting seashells on a beach, but the reality is far from it.

The thoughts, memories, emotions are swirled around in my head, elusive and evasive, slipping through my grasp each time I tried to latch onto them.

The guilt, the pain, the fear, the confusion, the relief...the love.

Try as I might, I couldn't seem to make sense of it all, and it was becoming increasingly frustrating.

No, it wasn't just annoyance. It was a feeling of intense self-reproach, a heavy wave of self-loathing washing over me akin to the shower's downpour.

Tears began to mix with the water, their salty traces indistinguishable from the water streaming down my face.

Crying in the shower felt lonely, but simultaneously it was oddly comforting.

I didn't want anyone, not even Draco, to see me in this raw, vulnerable, unfiltered state. Didn't want to be a bother to him any longer. Figured he might actually be better off without me. Figured Lyra, too, might be better off without me. Felt like I didn't make a good friend. Leave alone girlfriend. I wanted to snap back to a version of my life where only Harry was someone close to me.

After a while, I turned off the shower, my skin prickling slightly from the sudden change in temperature. I wrapped myself in a towel, stepping out of the shower and onto the cool bathroom tiles.

I padded over to the sink, peering at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red and my face pale and washed out. I sighed, deciding to ignore my reflection for now.

I found a little solace in the routine of my actions; drying myself off, taking care of my hair and brushing my teeth.

After I was done with all that, I reached for a pair of pyjama shorts and one of Draco's t-shirts from the pocket of his suit jacket, a faint tingle of the Extension Charm brushing against my fingers.

I got dressed quickly and with a final glance at the bathroom mirror, I headed back into the bedroom.

Draco sat on the edge of the bed, his body leaned back slightly and supported by his hands.

I avoided his gaze, while I could clearly feel his on me.

I silently moved towards him and sat down on my knees beside him. The mattress dipped under my weight, bringing me closer to him.

Fidgeting with the end of one of my inky waves, I met his eyes that were intense but exhausted.

"Talk to me, please," I said quietly.

"Why do you hurt me like that?" He asked, the question evidently on the brink of his lips for quite some time.

"I didn't mean to," I replied, my voice a mere whisper.

"But you did," he countered at once, "You denied me."

There was a silence, a tense moment where the air seemed to thicken around us.

"The day of the meeting," Draco began, "I was so happy to see you and have a decent conversation with you, even if it were only a few words because you had been acting strange in the cellar, and you really scared me at times, and then when I see you, the feeling was clearly not mutual... Why don't you let me kiss you?"

"That's not it," I rushed to say.

Draco leaned in, his eyes searching mine for permission.

I felt a familiar pull towards him, but I forced myself to stay still.