slide away {lorenzo berkshire}

44. look after you

"Time was passing like a hand waving from a train I wanted to be on.
I hope you never have to think about anything as much as I think about you."
- jonathan safran foer

~~~~~~

Lorenzo Berkshire

The hospital wing smelled of antiseptic and bitter herbs. We had spent pretty much every spare minute we had there since Draco's attack.

Madam Pomfrey gave us a dark look when we slipped inside - probably because we were coming to visit the boy who nearly bled out on her watch. But she didn't stop us.

Draco was propped up on a pillow, looking pale and exhausted, dark circles like bruises under his eyes.

He looked worse up close. He tried to pretend otherwise though, and managed a smirk when he saw us.

"You lot look like a funeral procession. Come to mourn me again?", he drawled. His voice cracked halfway through.

"Merlin, you're dramatic," Onyx laughed, dropping into the chair by his bedside. She took his hand like it was the most normal thing in the world. "You look fine. Horrible, but fine."

Draco snorted. "Your bedside manner is astonishing."

We fell into our usual routine. Our new usual routine, that is. Blaise lounged at the foot of the bed, smirking. Theo sat on the edge of the mattress, shoulders tense, like he was waiting for more bad news that hadn't come yet.

Cassie lingered near the window. Her eyes were bright, her lips curved in a playful smile, but I could tell by the way she kept twisting her ring that she was fighting not to pace. Her eyes kept darting to Draco's chest as though she was half-expecting to see the blood again.

I walked over to her without realising. My hand drifted to her lower back more than once, thumb slipping beneath the edge of her blouse. She didn't seem to mind - leaned into me, even. When Draco gave me a look, I just raised an eyebrow, daring him to say something. He didn't.

Draco looked more annoyed by our hovering and fussing than anything else, but I could tell he was grateful. Even if he'd never say it

After a while, Draco fell asleep and everyone else had trickled out.

Cassie tugged my hand, pulling me into some kind of store room. Before I could say anything, she was pressing me against the wall, mouth hot and insistent on mine.

Her hands slid under my shirt, nails grazing my ribs, and I groaned softly against her lips. The rush of heat she always brings me - the way everything else falls away when she's this close - it's addictive.

"Someone could walk in," I mumbled, but it's half-hearted. I was already gripping her hips, pulling her flush against me.

"Good," she whispered back. Her grin is wicked, her teeth tugging at my bottom lip. "Let them."

Her laugh is breathless when I flip her so she's pressed to the wall, my mouth on her throat. For a blissful few minutes, there's nothing but the soft sound of her sighs and the way her body arches into mine.

A sudden rustle broke us apart.

We both sighed in frustration, knowing we would have to continue this moment later. We stepped back outside, Cassie cheeks flushed, smoothing her hair as if nothing happened.

An owl I didn't recognise swooped into the wing with elegant arrogance, a letter tied to its leg.

Draco, who was now awake, gave us a knowing, almost amused look as we reappeared around the corner. His smirk faded almost immediately as the owl dropped the envelope on his lap, replaced by a thin, grim line.