Dilectio | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Talk

As you run through the flat, your hands shake. Your mind's reeling. You hear Draco call out to you, followed by the harsh slam of the door behind you as you fly down the stairs, your heart racing and your breathing erratic. Somehow, without falling, you make it to the street. It's quiet at the early hour of the morning, but your thoughts run rampant and loud in your mind.

You knew it was there; you knew what he was— a Death Eater. So, why did finally seeing the mark affect you so much? Your own parents were ripped away from you a few months into your life at the hands of people like him— at the hands of Death Eaters.

You stumble down the street, the cool May air hitting your body. You stop when your stomach begins to grumble, your dinner lurches as you throw up its contents into a nearby bush. Slumping down on the cool ground, your knees scraping the concrete leave scratches and burns behind. Throwing your hands to your cheeks, damp with tears, you reach your breaking point. The sobs don't stop.

Choices. He said he never had a choice when he stood on your doorstep weeks ago and kissed you. What did that mean? He also told you that you were nothing that same night.

But the way he looks at me—no. You weren't going to let those thoughts out. His words, his actions, it was all contradictory. You felt like you were nothing because that's what he had told you...that you are nothing, and it's what you tell yourself now.

You felt the shame casting a gloom on your entire situation. The dark cloud of guilt washes over your body in full force, making your hands tremble and your legs shake. You were so full of shame that you allowed him to distract you. Shame that you had barely made any progress in your efforts to find the person or persons responsible for your parents' deaths. You were dishonoring their legacy, their sacrifice.

You didn't come to London to fuck Death Eaters—you didn't come to London to fuck anyone. Yet here you sat on the cold concrete in Chelsea—blooming Chelsea of all places reaping the repercussions of your involvement. Consistently having sex with one. What hurt the most... you were becoming attached to him and the happiness you felt with him around. The startling realization of the night, though, wasn't so much the sight of the Dark Mark. It was that he was becoming attached to you as well. Your thoughts take long and quick strides to the revelation: you don't mind the attachment. You were happy.

It was like taking a warm bath, seeing the way he looked at you in the pale moonlight that flitted through the curtains of his room. His pale hair glowing, his soft lips leaving trails of kisses down your body. His hands were gentle on your skin. You wanted to bask in his warmth and gentleness. The reality of truth doused you in a bucket of ice-cold water.

Who would've thought that Draco Malfoy could be gentle? That he could be warm? That he could make you happy?

The sight of his Dark Mark—on your soulmate nonetheless— made you sweat despite the cold air of the early morning. You needed to find a way to prove to yourself that whatever bond or affection or attachment you were harboring for him, it ended now.

You hear footsteps quickly approaching you. When you look up, Draco sees your appearance. Your face is damp with tears, your eyes are puffy, and your hair is a tangled mess—his breath hitches when he sees how vulnerable you look, how broken you really are.

"Go away." Your voice comes out quiet and raspy from throwing up.

Draco reaches out a hand to touch you, but you pull back immediately, steadying yourself as you stand. "Don't fucking touch me."

He draws back, looking down at the sidewalk, his anger starting to bubble. "I don't fucking understand you." He pauses to look up at you. "What do you want?"