if looks could kill {a Draco Malfoy love story}

Marred hearts and secret meetings

I was in and out of sleep for hours, sighing and waiting for it to be late enough for me to get ready. At about 1:30, I stood up and grabbed a dress from my trunk before sneaking to the bathrooms where I cringed, fixing my hair a little bit before tugging on the green, cotton dress, soft material sliding up my skin. I make another adjustment to my crazy blond hair before making my way calmly down the hall to the potions room.

Draco is sitting there, his face cold and detached (like fucking always, I swear)

"You know, you're actually decently attractive when you bother to smile." I comment, plopping down next to him, and his eyes narrow suspiciously, giving me an analytical once over. I shake my head, dropping my textbook on the desktop, smiling at the loud thud that was produced.

"You won't be needing that, Selvin." he says quietly, his voice coming out surprisingly soft. I just roll my eyes defiantly.

"I'm serious. You already know the bloody book from front to back. Who are we kidding? You don't need any help with potions. It's your best class." he adds. I frown deeply, scrunching up my nose.

"Then why am I even here, Malfoy?" I snap, asking him matter-o-factly. He just shrugs in response, not wanting to answer any of my questions.

"Honestly, Drado. Can you stop being a fucking twat? Why am I even here if you're not going to help ke with potions?" I demand, pausing before I continue, "I need all of the sleep that I can get. I could be sleeping right now." I say, my teeth clenched by the end.

"You don't sleep very well." he comments, and I frown.

"That's beside the..." I trail off as he moves closer to me, standing up and looking down at me with those liquid silver eyes. I am completely speechless when he places a sure hand on the small of my back, fingers splayed out. Everything feels slow motion as he leans down. Our lips meet.

He is gentler than usual but forceful at the same time. Every time he kisses me, I can't seem to breathe or think. Everything just stops. It becomes me and him only. Just the two of us. I feel him smirk, and that's when I pull away.

"Why did you do that?" I question, running a hand through my light hair. And I find that I can't help myself, hand immediately moving to make contact with his cheek, the slap echoing around the room.

I want answers. Now, shit is getting serious.

"Stop pretending like you didn't enjoy it, Selvin." he taunts me, smirk growing wider as one of his hand touches his cheek, I can tell that his fingers are barely thieving over the skin. I sigh defeatedly, looking past him at the blank wall across from me, shrugging.

"I never said that I didn't like it." I mutter quietly, seeing his smirk turn to a triumphant grin in my peripheral vision. He chuckles, moving a few inches closer to me, leaning down so that he can whisper in my ear.

"What was that? I don't think that I've heard you." he teases, and when he pulls back, my head snaps up, our eyes making contact.

"Honestly, Malfoy, are you six? You know exactly what I said." I hiss, and he moves impossibly closer, only a fracction of an inch between our bodies. I can literally feel his heat.

"what are you up to, Malfoy?" I question him suspiciously, and he shakes his head, grinning yet again.

"Ah, but if I were to tell you, that would ruin all of the fun, Selvin." he whispers before dipping down to kiss me yet again.

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I walk to my room in a daze. Draco and I had just parted in the common room, kissing for a fourth time that night. There is an impossibly large smile plastered across my face. Dammit, he's finally gotten to me. Yes, I, Scarlett Selvin, have fallen for the one human being that I would have never thought possible. I have a crush on Draco Malfoy, the stupid, popular, Slytherin prince. God, will someone just put me out of my misery and kill me now?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was sitting in my room, crying. I was crying for my daddy. And Ai was crying for my mother who was so incredibly cruel. And I was crying for myself because I didn't know how to get out of the house alive. I didn't know how to make it out of the situation alive.

The first time that I dabbled in self injury, I was too broken to realize what I was even doing. I can remember the sheen of silver and the translucence of my unmarred skin. No one had hurt me there. There, I could take my own control.

It isn't a night that I enjoy dreaming of or thinking of, crimson red, staining pristine, porcelain white sinks as I tried to stop the bleeding.

The tears never stopped that night.

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I woke up the next morning, tangled up in my green bedsheets. I tentatively glance down at my arm where there is only one scar left, a light, pearlescent line, starting from my wrist and ending a quarter of the way below my elbow. My arm shows the remnants of a life that I'm trying to leave behind me. But there is no denying that the flesh is scarred...just like my heart is.