entanglements | d.m.

65.consequences

April '99 | H E R

Devyn wakes up with the sun beating in her face. She flinches, struggling to make her way into consciousness through a pounding headache.

A few steps in and she dreads to take the next. The memories come back slowly, foggy, every single one more horrifying than the last.

"Oh, god."

"What?" Draco, lying next to her, throws his head up in surprise, but Devyn ignores him.

She sits up, putting her roaring head in her hands. "Oh, god."

Attacking him. Undressing him. Kissing him. Clawing at him.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god."

Screaming. Crying. Attacking.

"Devyn." His hand comes down on her shoulder.

She can't have it. She can't have the consoling tone.

"Don't—" she shrugs herself away, gasping when she catches sight of the marks she'd left on his hand.

Cursing under his breath, Draco casts a quick episkey before returning his gaze on her. The injury might be healed, but her past actions remain. He becomes blurry, the air thick as she's battling a tsunami wave of guilt.

Alarmed, Draco moves closer. "Devyn—"

She holds her hand out, warning him not to get closer. "What happened after I gave you that?"

Sighing, he stays where he is and says, "Entwhistle saw that you struggled and gave me a Sleeping Draught for you. It was the only way I could get you to calm down."

He's just keeping them on hand?

And what does Draco mean she's been struggling? He'd been struggling to keep her from making him do things he wasn't comfortable with.

"I carried you up here," he continues, "changed you into pyjamas because they smelled of bonfire and that's it. Slept until now." He looks at her for a long moment, expression soaked with concern. "You remember what you did while you were on this Solution?"

She nods, struggling to remember what the Solution is called, but it's new. And it was fucking reckless to put people under the influence of it. Blaise was just all too happy to offer it.

But that's all he did. Offer.

Devyn accepted. Never asked what it was mixed with. Her brain told her to live in the moment, let loose a little and that is what she got.

Assaulting her boyfriend.

Another wave of tears well up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. When he reaches out, she shakes her head and slips off the bed, ignoring the drop of his shoulders.

"Devyn. Come on."

How could he even want to console her after what she did? It was vile and shameless and selfish. She remembers the intense lust like it's coursing through her blood right now, an animalistic, single-minded, uncontrollable desire to be as close as humanly possible to him and get off while she's at it. Everything else got out of focus. She felt insatiable, out of her mind, clawing to get what she knew would never quench that carnal hunger.

But she tried.

Shame becomes tngent in all its folds, her arms coming around her middle as if that'd keep her together. "I'm really sorry."

"The one who should be sorry is Blaise," says Draco, anger rising in his voice, bringing him to his feet. "He spiked the drink. He knew what he was doing. Had to have plannned it."