the boy who had no choice [d.m]

𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊

ELARA DIDN'T WANT TO FALL IN LOVE.

But the way Draco was kissing her, she didn't know if she could stop herself if it came to it.

When her lips first met his, he still hadn't recovered from his shock at her statement and had wrenched his hands from his pockets, grasping onto her waist, to prevent himself from falling over due to the momentum of her pulling her down to him.

His hands rested there for a moment, unsure, his lips against hers as she kissed him.

Elara should have been thinking about how he wasn't kissing her back, how she'd feel humiliated beyond belief if he pushed her away.

But the only thing on her mind was how delightfully smooth his skin was under her fingertips, how soft his lips were, how he smelled like green apples and parchment and snow.

And then he was kissing her back - but it wasn't what Elara had been expecting.

Everytime they'd kissed before, it was all teeth and tongue and groping. It had always been fueled by pure lust and they had always been pushed for time.

But the slow, gentle way Draco kissed her now was something she'd never experienced before.

Her hands clutched either side of his face, his mouth so soft against hers she felt her nerves tingle, and then he moved his hands from her waist, bringing them up to grasp her wrists and pull them away from his face.

Elara's heart thudded to what seemed like a stop and she could already feel the panic solidifying in her chest. He was pulling away, he was going to pull away and snap at her and say things that would hurt her -

His hands dropped hers and moved to rest on either side of her neck, right below her jaw, his fingers settling behind her ear as his thumb dragged over her cheekbones.

Elara released a breath of relief against his mouth. He had just been trying to get closer to her.

At this angle, he could tilt her head up and kiss her harder - still slow and sensual, enough to make the butterflies in Elara's stomach multiply and go wild.

His hair brushed against her forehead as he pulled back an inch, their breaths coming out in wisps in the freezing air and mixing.

Elara's heart pounded in her chest as she gazed up at him, her fingers still entangled in the front of his coat.

The snowflakes in his hair glittered under the moonlight, his eyes a kaleidoscope of blues and silvers, his expression unreadable.

"Draco..."

He didn't let her finish, instead dipping his head to press his mouth to hers once again and she melted into him, sliding her arms up and locking her wrists behind his neck.

His tongue dragged across her lip and she shivered but not due to the cold weather.

There wasn't anything sexual about this - it was all pure and slow and sensual. Elara didn't think she'd ever felt better than she did in that moment.