Last Words Should Always Be I Love You ~ A Draco Malfoy Love Story

Chapter 14

As the door slammed, and the hem of her robes disappeared fluidly around the corner, the ends of her mane of hair swaying briskly at the base of her spine, Draco's outstretched arm fell to his side and the air felt drained from his lungs. His posture slumped, and a feeling of complete and utter despair swallowed him like a grey cloud swirling above his head. His eyes burned, a thousand daggers being plunged into every fibre of his soul and heart, an overwhelming urge to run after her brewing deep in the pits of his stomach. His hand tingled fondly at the burst of electricity he'd just experienced after touching her, despite the fact it had been only momentarily. 

Despite the fact that Pansy, of all people, had made her angry enough to leave mid-conversation. The grey cloud smothering him burst, raining down on him like a shower of glass shards and lightning bolts. The hard-hitting, yet tender, feeling of sadness he'd been feeling was replaced with an uncontrollable wash of rage. He turned back to Pansy slowly, his entire persona now on edge and undeniably vexed.

Pansy stared back at him, a look of irritation on her face, lips pouted and a cocky arrogance to her posture. Draco's voice was low and threatening as he spoke.

"Pansy-" He snarled, taking a step forward, hands curling in on themselves at his sides. His blunt nails dug sharply into the icy skin of his palm, and he could feel the small red indentations forming in half-moons on his skin.

"Draco," Pansy said sourly, looking him up and down with a look of resentment and jealousy. Draco gave her a hostile look, silvery eyes engulfed with anger and dark, as if made of obsidian. The fire burnt brightly to his left, and to Pansy his eyes looked like oil starting to catch in a fire. 

"What. Was. That?!" Draco growled, low in his throat, like a wolf, ready to pounce. His stance was predatorial, his shoulders raised, spine curving to make his stance more menacing. The realization at what she'd just said to Genevieve struck every single nerve in his body one by one, a painful little spark prickling all over his skin, ready to explode into a supernova at any moment.

"What?" She sneered in return, arms folded haughtily over her chest in their satiny robes, and the anger burned deeper into the core of Draco's temper, pressing him nearer to the edge of attacking her. "Protecting your reputation and stopping the freak from harassing you?"

Draco snapped. His rage erupted in one massive fireball of shouting and swearing, stepping closer to Pansy with every step she took away from him in fear.

"You know nothing about her!" Draco hollered, stamping his feet and kicking the leg of the armchair Gen had been sitting on a few minutes before so hard that a painful jolt shuddered up his leg. But he ignored it, continuing his rampage. "She wasn't harassing me! I was spending time with her because she was alone, and she's a kind and genuine person, and I am sick of spending time with you!"

Pansy gasped, but Draco was oblivious, flying off his temper and going completely and utterly ballistic.

"Pansy, I don't want to be the person you follow everyday, who your so desperate to spend time with, who you won't leave alone! You speak of her harassing me, but the one who really is harassing me is you! I don't give a damn about my social status if it means being able to have genuine friends, and interests other than money and preserving blood status! I mean of course I want those things, but it's just nice to be able to speak to someone who's different, and so kind and lovely too, and beautiful-"

"What?"

Draco paused, briefly, at her interruption, looking at her simply puzzled face with an expression still seething and flushed. "What is it?" He spat, though his tone was slightly softer. Not by much, though.

"You just called her beautiful."

Draco began to burn up, every nerve in his body aware of his words. He'd called her beautiful. To Pansy. He furrowed his brow, looking offended and shaking his head. "No I didn't. You're imagining things, because you're so jealous."

Pansy scoffed,a  harsh cold sounds that sounded like a horse. To match her face, Draco thought smugly.

"You think I'm jealous of that freak?!" She laughed, but it had no humour. It was just plain scornful.

Draco's rage restarted, and his voice rang out in the silence. He swore he could hear shuffling feet, maybe even crying, in one of the girls dormitories above them. It only fueled the fire.

"Stop calling her that! She's the most genuine and kind person I've ever had the pleasure to meet, and if anyone, and I mean anyone, calls her that again, I will personally kill them all MYSELF!" His temper reached a climax, and he went quiet, chest heaving a breathing un-naturally deep, slow.

Pansy mumbled something, under her breath, barely audible. Draco may have calmed down, but that didn't mean he wasn't still irked. "What is it?" He snapped, turning away from Pansy and the fire and beginning to storm towards the staircase to the boy's dormitories.

"You're in love with her," Pansy repeated, louder this time, and Draco halted in his tracks, hand clamping down on the doorknob. The icy feel shot up his arm, and rushed through his body, but that wasn't the only thing that did it-

Pansy's words struck Draco bare to the bone, and he had to search his mind for something to say. He couldn't find anything though, to argue with. It was like a stab wound to the chest, an icicle lodged in between his ribs, a white hot fire that nicked his arteries and slipped into his circulation. A cold sweat blossomed on his pale complexion.

"I don't-" He began to say numbly, but Pansy cut him off, emotionless.

"Yes you do. I can see it. I think everyone can." She paused, briefly, looking from Draco's hunched shoulders to her feet. "Everyone apart from her."

Draco's stomach flipped. He didn't love Genevieve. Surely he couldn't? They'd known each other, what, three weeks?

"I don't know what your talking about-" The stutter tripped off his tongue, and Pansy made a noise which sounded like amusement.

"Draco, there's not point trying to deny it. I can see it. You move closer to her, whenever she's near by. You may not mean to, but it's your body's way of trying to alert her you're there, make her welcome to come closer. But she doesn't. So you stare. You burn with envy when she talks to Potter and the Weasleys. You can't stand anyone being near her, unless it's yourself. You'd talk to her until the sun set and never rose again.

"I can see everything you do is to try and catch her eye, and when you do, you feel this rush, a burning in your chest, and it slips into every  single inch of you, and just the smallest glimpse of her eyes, or her silhouette, or even just her scent, makes you tremble. You long for more; You need more. Whether it's physical touch, or just her recognition."

Pansy went quiet for a few moments, and Draco's eyes had slipped to his feet, his expression guilty and aware of the realization as it happens. He did love her. Everything Pansy had said was true, and it went even beyond that.

"How did you know, Pansy?" He asked, quiet and solemn.

She made an exasperated noise, rolling her eyes. "I already told you, I could see-"

"No, not that." He cut her off quickly. She stopped, waiting for his next question. "I meant, how did you know all the feelings, the ones you described so well?"

She paused, sucking her teeth and chewing a hangnail. After a few moments, Draco repeated himself, and it was only a long moment after that when she eventually replied.

"That's how I used to feel about you." 

Draco thought he would stiffen, but he didn't. Deep down, he was expecting it. He wanted to turn and tell her something reassuring, but he didn't know what to say.

"Goodnight, Draco." There was a sound of light footsteps, and the quiet creak as Pansy slipped through the door and up the girl's dormitory staircase, the door clicking lightly shut as she went.

He stayed there for a moment, thinking of nothing, just a vast emptiness inside his head.

Then he turned the doorknob, and walked upstairs, the space between him and Genevieve growing with every forced step.