Malfoy | Draco Malfoy [Book1](Unedited!)

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I'm laying in his arms on top of him, our bare bodies tangled together. My head is tucked into the crook of his neck, my arm draped across his chest. I'm still half-asleep, my mind floating in that hazy, groggy state between dreams and reality.

I can feel his body beneath mine, the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his skin. My fingers tracing lazily over his chest, my touch light. I still can't stop looking at all the scars on his body.

He groans quietly in his sleep, his arm tightening around my waist. I lift my head slightly, careful not to wake him. His face is relaxed in sleep, the usual tension and stress absent from his features. He looks younger, almost boyish.

I smile to myself, a feeling of contentment washing over me. This moment, this quiet peace, feels like heaven. For a brief moment, nothing else matters. There's no guilt, no shame, no consequences. Just this - him and I.

But I know this won't last. The memory of my earlier conversation of Draco with him, the pain on his face, the guilt and hurt, is like a cold bucket of water to my happiness. My smile fades, and I let out a silent sigh. The guilt is already creeping back in. And then I feel Nicolas stir, his body shifting beneath mine.

"You're staring," he mutters, his voice gravelly with sleep. I lift my head, meeting his gaze. His green eyes are still half-lidded, his hair sticking up at odd angles. He looks irresistibly adorable.

"You're gorgeous," I reply, a smile playing on my lips, as I oush back my hairs behind my ear. He huffs a quiet laugh, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. "You're just saying that because you're sleeping with me." He lifts his hand, pulling out the strand of hair I tucked behind my ear.

"And if I wasn't sleeping with you?" I ask. He gives me a deadpan look. "We wouldn't be having this conversation," he says dryly. I can't help but laugh, shaking my head.

"You're terrible," I tell him, my voice filled with affection. He rolls his eyes, then reaches up and pulls me down for a kiss. It's a slow, languid kiss, his mouth moving gently against mine. I lose myself in the moment, in the feel of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body beneath me.

When he finally pulls back, I'm breathless, my heart racing. His thumb brushes over my lips, his gaze locked onto mine. His eyes are softer now. "I have to go"

His voice is quiet, almost hesitant. I prop myself up on my elbows, looking down at him. "Already?" I can't hide the hint of disappointment in my voice.

"You know I can't stay," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret, I nod.

I lean down, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, trying to memorize the way he feels, the way he tastes. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer, deepening our kiss. I don't know when he's going to be back, and it hurts more than I want to admit.

When we finally pull away, our foreheads resting against each other, his breath brushes against my lips. "I should go," his voice is husky. I nod. He gently untangles himself from me, getting out of bed and reaching for his clothes.

I sit up, watching as he dresses silently, my heart sinking with each passing second. When he's fully clothed, he turns to me, his expression unreadable. I want to say something, anything, to make him stay, but the words lodge in my throat. "Don't go out alone,"

He says, his voice low. It's not a request, it's a firm order. I nod silently, knowing he's right.

He gives me one final look, his eyes betraying his feelings, then he turns and walks out of the room. The door closes behind him with a soft click, and I'm left in silence. A deep sense of loneliness washes over me, leaving me feeling cold and empty.