Limerence; Draco Malfoy

Chapter Seventeen: Accusations

... "And where the fuck have you been?"

***

I don't know why I stopped. Maybe it was because of the harshness in his tone: a mixture of ice and pure scorn.

There was such an edge to his question that it felt more like a stab, slowly causing dread to slide down my spine as I forced myself to turn on my heel and stare straight through him.

Narrowed blue eyes sinking deep into my green ones -- a glare which felt invasive despite the distance between us.

"Are you deaf?" He practically growled out. "I asked you a fucking question?"

I inhaled sharply through my nose, my spine stiffening. My voice luckily managed to stay steady, concealing my inner panic.

"Well, maybe I don't want to give you a fucking answer!"

His eyes flickered; pursed lips tugging down into a deeper scowl. I shot back at the little ray of sunshine opposite me before he could goad me further.

"I don't see how it's any of your business anyway. What do you care?"

"I don't." He snarled; now the knife he was gripping was being distractedly fiddled with: he stood twirling it in one hand, continuing to sneer at me from afar.

Those sharp eyes stayed scrutinising, giving me a swift and calculating full body scan, as though he was searching for something in my appearence he could insult. He was likely to find a lot of things, no doubt: I was no great beauty.

"It's just a little suspicious, really," He went on bitterly, "What's so exciting about your life that makes it so you have anywhere to be?"

"Suspicious?" I turned to face him with a frown, hugging my arms across my chest - just like I always do whenever I've felt nervous. "Listen, Draco," I spoke his name slowly, condescendingly.

Judging by the flash of thunder which suddenly clouded his features, you would have thought I'd straight up insulted him. It was only his name, for christ's sake!

"-Unlike you, maybe I have friends? Unlike you, maybe I actually have a life? Unlike you Draco, I prefer to spend my evenings doing meaningful things, rather than throwing knives at the wall. What are you doing that for anyway? Training for the circus?"

He stilled. Even from a distance I spotted the distinct tick of his jaw as his expression grew impossibly rigid; smooth, like pale marble.

"Very witty, Lockwood." He clipped out. "I wasn't expecting you to still be so cocky, considering the fact everybody now knows your little secret."

His lips turned up at the corner, devious.

I knew he'd noticed my face fall.

"Snape was right - it really is quite the abnormality. Yet somehow, the fact doesn't surprise me. I had a feeling something about you was off the first time I ever saw you. Call it intuition, instinct, whatever - I knew straight away that you were hiding something."

My mouth fell open, and I was all set to argue -- hell, I wanted to argue, but the way his head slyly tilted with cunning fascination distracted me. Any counter-argument I may or may not have had, became stuck in my throat.

"Who would have thought it, hmm?" His lip curled into a faint sneer. "A mudblood getting sorted into Slytherin. It's priceless."

The stinging in my eyes was definitely due to my dust allergy and not because of him. "Yes, well, i'm glad you've found something to project all your fustration on, really, I am," I began hurridley, "But if i'm going to be honest, now's really not the time for me to stand here and listen to you whine and be a bitch."