Poison Ivy || Draco Malfoy

52 - Sad Girl

I didn't stir.

I'm not even sure if I slept.

But my eyes were now open, and I tried to focus on the window. On the penthouse.

I didn't want to look at anything else.

Rain was splattering noisily against the glass. I found it oddly comforting. I was reminded of that first evening when Draco turned up; drenched to the core, irritable and pissed off with the world.

I squeezed my eyes tight shut as a wave of overwhelming sadness threatened to engulf me. It hurt so much to think about him, yet I couldn't stop.

And if I didn't think about him, then I would think about something else.

And it was the something else that had rendered me immovable and numb.

I realised, however, that my mouth was incredibly dry. I couldn't remember the last time I had had something to drink.

The thirst was suddenly getting to me, and I was desperate for some water, but then getting some water would mean moving and I didn't know if I even had it in me.

But slowly, I shifted myself across the mattress, until I eventually reached the edge.

I winced in pain as I stood up, clutching my side which was screaming in protest as I started to move one foot in front of the other.

I slowly limped across the studio towards the kitchenette, willing myself not to pass out.

When I finally got there, I greedily gulped down glass after glass of water, shocked at my own thirst.

Locating some painkillers, I limped back to the bed where I collapsed back down, wishing I had stocked enough tablets to top myself.

I looked warily towards where the door was; now hidden by the amount of furniture I had moved in front of it. I hadn't cared about the pain then as I had dragged chair after chair, easel after easel - my only thought was to barricade myself in so that he couldn't ever get back through.

I almost couldn't believe it when he had simply stood up and walked away. I had been convinced he was going to force me to go with him, or even kill me.

He had done neither. But I still couldn't trust he wouldn't come back and try to.

Not a single word passed his lips through the whole thing. I didn't know if it made it worse. Instead, his whole face was pinched in the most ugliest expression I had ever seen, whilst he pinned me down onto the sofa and-

Suddenly, I found myself heaving quite violently and painfully, vomiting up the water I had just consumed all over the bed, soaking the sheets in the process.

"No!" I cried, coughing and spluttering as I tried to control my retching, tears falling furiously down my face.

It was the only thing I had that smelt of him; of Draco, and I had just spewed up all over it.

I quickly grabbed my wand and cleaned it all up, but when I pressed my face into the now dry sheets, all the smell had gone.

It felt as though I had lost him all over again.

I couldn't stop sobbing. I didn't want to live anymore. I had nothing left. This studio would never be the same for me and I couldn't see how I could ever teach another class after what Percy had done to me in this very room.

Yet I couldn't bear the thought of leaving; too afraid of what was outside. I felt like a prisoner, trapped in this hell that I could see no way out of.

It seemed hard to believe that only days before I had been happy and safe in Draco's arms; something I knew I'd never feel ever again.

I curled up into a tight ball and wept until I had nothing left in me.

*****

I had no idea of what day it was anymore.

Time no longer seemed to be of any significance. I was only faintly aware of the sun rising and setting every now and then.

I barely took my eyes off the penthouse, hating that it was too far away to see him. I wondered if he was ever up there looking back down at me.

I hated to think who might else be up there with him. I didn't want him to be lonely, but at the same time, I couldn't bear to think of him being with another woman; touching her, kissing her, fucking her.

I fantasised about leaving the studio and going over there. I longed to see him again, even from afar. But I was terrified of inadvertently killing him.

In fact, I still couldn't face leaving the studio. The door remained hidden behind furniture and every now and then, when someone would knock on the other side, I'd curl myself up into a ball and cover my ears until it stopped.

As the days rolled by, the knocks became fewer and further apart, eventually stopping altogether.

Despite wanting to die, I still ate.

Draco had insisted on stocking the cupboards in the kitchenette with items such as pasta and tins of soup which thankfully were all easy to prepare. It was almost as if he intuited that I'd be too depressed to want to cook much.

When I came across the half empty bottle of firewhisky he'd bought for 'emergencies', I sank down on the kitchen floor and clutched it to me; cradling it to my heart as I waited for the pain to pass.

I unscrewed the cap, hovering the neck under my nose and inhaled deeply; closing my eyes as the scent immediately hit me, reminding me of him, recalling the taste of his lips when we kissed.

"I miss you so much," I sobbed as tears splashed down my face.

I could no longer see any light. All there was was darkness and I didn't want to live anymore.

And then one day, I woke up and realised I could no longer do this.

So, grabbing a piece of parchment, I wrote a letter.

It was time to finally ask for help.

*****