All My Stars | Draco Malfoy.

Chapter 20

Chapter 20:

Carina:

The Sunday that followed the raging party Draco threw was so subdued you'd think someone died the day before. But strangely, nobody complained, just trudged out of their beds, supremely hung-over, swiped up potions from their contacts to make them feel somewhat better and doused themselves with homework for the next week.

So when I found myself curled up on the sofa near the fireplace late Sunday night, exhausted after finally finishing the Herbology essay I had been procrastinating all week and a tattered copy of Everything you need to know about Pluto, I was beyond the moon. It was a bonus that the empting Common Room only left a thoroughly engrossed Malfoy behind, his nose tucked under the gleaming copy of The Mysteries of Saturn.

"Now, kids." Blaise said, bringing me out of my reverie and pointed (somewhat, wanton) staring contest with Malfoy's book, "Behave, yourselves."

I scoffed, turning down to my book and ignoring his stupid request, seeing as Draco had barely moved, he hadn't acknowledged the gesture either.

"Oh, Blaise," Pansy murmured, her voice somewhat smug, "They are very busy nerding it out tonight, I really doubt you'd find the Common room in ashes tomorrow."

"Fuck off, Parkinson." Was Malfoy's smart reply.

"Gladly." She replied, pulling Blaise with her as they left us alone. Daphne for all her love for me had retired to bed right after dinner, mumbling about how last night was a tragic mistake and drinking games with Pansy are the worst. I'm just going to take her word for it, because as much as I try, I still cannot piece the night together and I can't decide if that's a good or bad thing either, because I woke up, smelling of pine on Draco's bed, wrapped around him like a vine.

Not that anyone noticed, Pansy was passed out all over Zabini and Daphne had made herself home with Astoria on Nott's bed while he lounged on a blanket bed he made on the floor, Crabbe and Goyle's covers suspiciously missing.

"Hadley." Draco's drawl pierced through my head and I looked up enquiringly, "Come here."

I raised an eyebrow, seeing as my legs were resting on his lap and we were practically next to each other, "I am here?" I asked, cofounded, to which he sighed, setting his glossy book down and wrapping his hands around my ankles, giving me a forceful yank.

"Malfoy I swear-"

"Just get your arse on my lap." He cut me off, sighing as he threw his head on the back of the soda and looked up in frustration. A smirk quirked up my face as I slowly shut my book and retracted my legs.

"What's got your boxers in a twist, Malfoy?" I asked, coyly, calmly taking a seat on him as he regarded me with a heavily guarded, cool gaze.

"Shut up" he muttered, half-heartedly as he leaned in to capture my lips in his, and I sighed at the contact, feeling the familiar drumming in my veins as his hands slid over my body, lips soft against mine and breath coming out in pants.

This was natural, and for some reason over the course of time, I had actually come to use Draco as my own brand of stress reducing potion.

It's not normal, I'm aware.

I'm also hyperaware of the fact that his cold hands were inside my sweater and steadily moving up, as his lips descended down my neck and in that moment I didn't even care that I didn't hate Draco Malfoy at all. I don't even remember why I hated him so much, because his tongue is enough reason to just let that go.