Limerence; Draco Malfoy

Chapter Twenty: Seduction

I didn't have time to react.

I didn't have time to think. Scream. Beg. Cry. Or even pray to the big man upstairs.

I didn't even have time to process the fact - the morbid, dreary, pitiful fact - that I was likely about to be murdered by my classmate. And we'd only been enemies for what - a day? This was starting to sound like the plot of a bloody Shakespeare play. Our war, our feud, had become so fast-paced it hardly made any sense.

He didn't make any sense.

And Murder... now that was a word I used to associate with killer documentaries, thriller novels, and tragic news story's about other people's sorrowful lives. Never would I have imagined me and that word to become a fatal pairing.

At that moment, I seriously believed that he was planning to finish me off for good. Taking his knife from the floor, he would (quite literally) cut my life short.

A hand was still wrapped around my throat. My wrists locked in one of his icy grips. My heartbeat running at the same speed as a terrified mouse hiding from the deadly cat. A pair of spiteful, blue eyes honing in on mine -

- A cold finger sliding up the bare skin of my inner thigh.

The subtle, swift action caught me so off guard I didn't register that my hands were no longer trapped; they fell limply to my sides whilst shivers exploded across my body. His smug eyes blazed into my widened ones, daring me to react.

I told myself it was fear which made my breath suddenly hitch. That it was fear and repulsion towards the monster in front of me which caused my pulse to suddenly stutter, and my face to flush scarlet.

His icy finger paused from traveling as quickly as he'd started, but he didn't pull away. For a moment I thought he looked as shocked as I felt - I could see it in the way his brows suddenly pulled together. Like he was expecting a bigger outburst from me.

I somehow managed to force my shaky voice out:

"What are you d-" I clamped my mouth shut again when his finger began absently tracing circles against my skin of my inner thigh - a few dangerous inches away from the apex; the hand around my throat gave a gentler warning squeeze.

"I take it back," He began simply, lightly, as his lips turned up at the corners into a cruel smirk. "Perhaps I'm not being very civil about this?"

I didn't dare talk with his hand squeezing around my airways, but I reckon the look in my eyes was enough of an answer. No fucking shit you're not being "civil," I was thinking.

"I know, I know - I'm going about all this in a rather absurd manner, aren't I? I can only apologize. I'm a rather impatient person at the best of times, especially when it comes to important things such as my property."

All this false pleasantry was rolling shamelessly off his tongue. His voice dipped until it became soothing, coaxing - almost hypnotic - and by now my mouth was as dry as sawdust.

"Yes... maybe I should go a little easier on you. You don't have to look so scared, Lockwood. I'm not going to hurt you... I promise. I'm not doing all this for the sake of starting a fight. Bloody hell, I'm not even going to be angry at you if you just hand it over now. I'll let you go and... I'll willingly forget about the whole thing."

For a moment he looked genuinely sincere. For a moment - a very brief moment - he didn't sound like a deranged psychopath.

"I promise."

His thumb gently began circling against the hollow of my throat. I gave a sharp inhale, a faint gasp escaping my parted lips. "-I just need my fucking ring back." He said softly. Sweetly.