Limerence; Draco Malfoy

Chapter Thirty-Six: Get in loser, we're going to Hogwarts

The pillow I woke up on was in no way comfortable.

Rather, it felt as hard as concrete, and the matress might as well have been a block of ice. I stirred, letting out a few soft chokes as all my sensations slowly started to resurface.

I could hear the light whisperings of the wind in the trees. The rustle of leaves scratching against the ground by my head. My own shallow breathing. That of which was much steadier now, although it still sounded like a slight whistle inside my throat. There was the smell of damp leaves, petrichor and... apples?

I was still in the woods, then.

And clearly, not on a bed.

A soft sigh drifted out above me yet I didn't dare open my eyes, too scared for what I would find.

A wolf, maybe?

Although wouldn't the wolf have eaten me by now?

"You're awake. About bloody time."

Not him again. Please, not him again!

My eyes snapped open to find his face above me: blond hair cascading down his forehead in feathered strands.

I realised the makeshift pillow I was resting on was his leg. And that the reason he was only wearing a his white school shirt and no robes, was because he'd draped them over me like a thick, surprisingly cosy blanket. He must've been freezing- I certainley was. But Draco didn't seem to be shivering.

I stayed staring up at him in a wide eyed daze for a long moment, almost as if to drink in the situation. His arms were folded stiffly across his chest, like he was reluctant to bring them anywhere near me. Yet I couldn't help but feel like my hair was out of place: it was conveniently brushed right back out of my face...

I blinked again, realising that his expression had reverted back to its usual brooding mask. Contentious and guarded. Then I pulled his makeshift blanket up to my chin, where I continued to peer up at him warily.

Funnily enough, the familiarity of seeing his darkened, unstirred features brought me a twisted sense of comfort. It dawned on me then that I didn't mind the fact Draco's manner was always so cold and sharp. In fact, I'd secretly grown to appriciate it. The consistency of his moody nature brought stability to my chaotic mind. Stability being the one thing I craved the most.

And now, he was throwing at me a very familiar looking scowl.

"Well? Are you alive or what?"

I thought about it, letting out a shuddering breath.

"... No." My voice was barely a croak. I could barely speak my teeth were chattering so hard. "I-I had an asthma attack, didn't I?"

Draco nodded, his intense eyes darting across my face. Studying me. The awareness of how close we were was slowly sinking into me. He was sat with his long legs stretched out, his back against a tree trunk. Having my head in his lap shouldn't have felt as natural to me as it did, or as comfortable.

But it did.

"Yes." He answered my question in a flat, emotionless tone. "You've been out cold for twenty minutes. So I brought you over to lie under this tree. Figured it would be better if we kept ourselves out of the clearing. We're quite hidden, here."

"Did you carry me?" I whispered, though I wasn't really sure why I was asking. Draco's expression became even more irritable.

"I didn't have a choice: there's wards in the forest, so I couldn't use a spell... You should be bloody thanking me." He muttered the last part without quite meeting my gaze.