Splintered -Draco Malfoy

Chapter 3: drinking game

'Ok ok, your turn malfoy,' the girl with glossy black hair and blue eyes cheered, Pansy, her name was. She lifted an expensive bottle of fire whiskey to her lips, Darcy heard the glug of the air leaving the bottle as it cascaded down her throat. She gave a drunken giggle as Draco spun an empty bottle of fire whiskey on the carpet.
Darcy hated alcohol.
The smell. The taste. The feeling it inflicted upon her. Dizziness. Vulnerability. Honesty. Weakness.
She hated it.
Yet she found herself in a room full of teenagers, children, really. Who were drowning out the terrible circumstances of their life with alcohol. But she told herself to Shutup and be grateful they invited her to join them. Because even if she hated alcohol. She hated being left out more.
'Oh, Darcy.' The blond said.
Darcy snapped out of her thoughts, looking up.
And there they were, those beautiful eyes.
Beneath them, on the ground, was an empty bottle of fire whiskey, the neck facing her.
'Oh, I'm not playing.' She insisted, blinking at him kindly.
'No worries-' Draco responded. His voice was so reassuring.
'Don't be a spoilsport, Riddle.' Pansy, slurred in her ear. And she wanted to plummet her fist into her face, not even from what she said, but purely from the reek of alcohol wafting off her breath. 'Half the girls at our school would faint if she were given the opportunity to kiss Malfoy.' She murmured, too loud to be considered a whisper, but too quiet for anyone but Darcy to hear.
'I don't go to your school,' Darcy responded, very clearly unimpressed by the girl. The sheet of patience she wore around herself all night was growing thin.
Darcy hated alcohol.
'Malfoy, spin the bottle again.' Pansy slurred. Merlin she had quite a mouth on her.
No response.
'C'mon Malfoy, don't be shy.' Cooed Theodore Nott, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
'This is shit. I'm gonna go for a smoke.' Draco grumbled, his eyes were heavy, he was tired.
Darcy perked up at the mention of a smoke,
She hated alcohol.
But weed... weed she enjoyed.
'Can I come?' Darcy said quickly, her eyes brightening as they met with Draco's yet again. Merlin, they were fucking beautiful, hypnotic, divine.
'Hm?' Draco cast a look over his shoulder as his long fingers curled around the door handle, 'yeah, sure.'

'I didn't know you smoked.' He said, looking down at her. The icy air of the night surrounded them, it made Darcy's cheeks pink, nipped by the sharp claws of the cold, and caused her teeth to quiver slightly.
She always thought smoke was so beautiful at nighttime. The way it was almost illuminated by the moon as it floated in the air. It was quite poetic, Darcy thought.
'I don't... really.' She murmured truthfully, her eyes flitted around the navy horizon-line as she sat down, knees tucked to her chest, arms around the underside of her thighs as she huddled for warmth. They were on one of the many rooftops of the huge estate. She looked up at Draco, Darcy had a habit of talking very slowly, and clearly, too slow for the young Malfoy. A look of confusion was plastered to her face. 'My parents smoke weed, but I don't fancy the taste of cigarettes very much.' She explained. It was true. All true. Though she hoped Draco understood her mother and father smoked weed in an exquisite manor. Not like a drug addict, or a hippy, no. More like 'Mickey Pearson,' from The Gentlemen, or 'Vincent Vega' from Pulp Fiction. Darcy watched a lot of movies. What else was she to do when she was stuck in her manor all day? The commonly occurring days when she didn't receive lessons from Cykera Groune?
Draco simply hummed in agreement to her comment. 'Weed is definitely preferable to cigarettes.' He let out a breathy chuckle. 'These are good though.' He said, quirking his honey blonde eyebrows as he pulled his cigarette from his mouth, she noticed the paper at the filter of the cigarette was green. He shuffled through his pocket until he brought out a box of Marlboro cigarettes. He tossed the pack lazily in Darcy's direction, and she caught it with equal laziness. Her eyes skimmed over the packaging.
'Marlboro'
20 marijuana cigarettes
'Quite rare, these are.' The blond boasted. 'You can have one, if you like.' He offered, as if he didn't care if she did or didn't, taking a deep inhale of his cigarette, the tip glowed amber, ashes fell like snowflakes.