Poison Ivy || Draco Malfoy

20 - The Penthouse

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"Fuck," Draco hissed, as he helped me stagger down the steps at the front of the restaurant in broad daylight. "Quick, give me your wand."

After we had finished the first bottle, Masood had brought us a second one out which I ended up drinking most of myself.

But I had found I had a surprisingly good time; chatting to Draco about my love of art, whilst he appeared to listen with interest, even if he didn't contribute much.

But it turned out that I couldn't handle daytime drinking. And so here we were, Draco supporting me as I scrabbled around for my wand, but failing to locate it. Giving a dramatic sigh, Draco groped for it in my pockets himself as I leaned heavily on him; trying to stop the world from spinning around me.

He must have managed to retrieve it because the next thing I knew, the breath was being sucked out my of body and we were suddenly stood outside a large and impressive looking building in another part of London.

Draco, with one arm holding me up, was punching some buttons on a keypad, before a loud buzz allowed the front door of the building to open.

"Where are we?" I asked blearily, my words slurring slightly as he dragged me inside.

"My apartment," Draco muttered, pulling me into a lift. "Just try not to throw up until I get you to my bathroom."

Eventually, after we climbed what seemed like a million floors; the lift doors opened up into an extremely bright and airy pristine apartment which, even in my state, I could appreciate the views from across the city.

"Quick," he growled, pulling me across the room through to another door.

The next thing I know, I'm leaning over a porcelain toilet bowl, throwing up the contents of my stomach with Draco crouched beside me holding back my hair.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, as I groaned at the sight of the expensive wine and curry swirling around at the bottom Draco Malfoy's toilet.

"Don't be," he murmured huskily, his voice gentle and soothing from somewhere above my ear. "I forget not everyone can handle the finer things in life."

Even without looking up at him, I could feel the smirk creep on his lips. But I was too mortified by my current predicament to snap at him.

Chuckling, he helped me back to my feet as I leant forward to flush the chain. "I'll leave you to sort yourself whilst I make you a black coffee." And without waiting for a response, he left, shutting the door behind him.

I went over to the sink, splashing my face with cold water. I groaned as I looked up in the mirror; my face and hair were a complete state.

I grappled around for my wand and realised frustratingly that Draco must have still had it on him.

"Shit," I muttered, looking around at Draco's immaculate cream bathroom, wondering if he kept a comb anywhere.

In the end, feeling it was too intrusive to start going through his belongings, I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, and wiped away my mascara tracks with water and toilet tissue.

"You know, I do have a spare comb you can borrow," Draco smirked as he handed me a steaming mug of coffee once I'd stepped back out into his living room ten minutes later.

"I didn't feel it was appropriate for me to go rifling through your things," I muttered, glaring at him as I took a grateful sip of my drink.

"On the contrary," he said with a wicked glint in his eye, "feel free to rifle through my drawers anytime you like, Parkinson. You won't hear me complaining."

Feeling my cheeks flame, I turned to face the large windows, deciding to distract my attention with the view instead.

"You have the penthouse, I assume?" I asked, hardly being able to believe the breathtaking sight before me. I expected it looked even more spectacular at night.

"Of course," he drawled, stepping up beside me as we both looked out across the vast city. "Surely you wouldn't expect me to have anything less?"

"Hey, look," I gasped, forgetting my delicate state as I tapped him excitedly on his arm, "you can see my studio from here! Look! There - right there! That's my window!"

"I know," he said simply, adding nothing more as he took a sip of his own coffee.

"Oh," I said, not quite knowing what else to say.

Suddenly the chimes of Big Ben sounded in the distance, and I squinted at the clock face, nearly dropping my coffee all over Draco's plush cream carpet in horror.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" I cried, spinning around and looking for a surface to dump my cup.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, concerned etched over his features as he relieved me of the cup himself.

"I was supposed to be meeting the wedding caterer with Percy fifteen minutes ago!" I panicked, utterly horrified. "He's going to kill me!"

"Calm down, it's just fifteen minutes," Draco said, placing the cups down on the coffee table and fishing in his pocket for my wand. "Are you okay to Apparate or would you like me to escort you?"

I didn't feel one hundred percent, but the idea of Percy witnessing me turning up not only late, but with Draco Malfoy, filled me with a terror I couldn't quite explain.

"No, I'm fine," I said shakily, taking my wand back. "Just, if you don't mind showing me the way out?"

"Come on," he muttered, leading the way to the lift doors, an odd expression on his face as he kept glancing back at me.

We descended the lift in silence. I could feel Draco's eyes furtively dart to me every now and then as I kept looking anxiously at my watch, silently willing the lift to hurry up.

"Thank you for lunch," I said breathlessly as we stood outside the front of his building. "And um... I'm sorry for throwing up in your bathroom."

"Anytime, Parkinson," he drawled silkily, and although his lips tugged into a smile; I could see an apprehensive flicker in his eyes. "You will be okay, won't you?"

I nodded, even though I knew I wouldn't be, but I appreciated him asking all the same.

Luckily the following day was a Sunday, and I didn't have to see anyone again until Monday evening.

Enough time for me to recover.

*****