Limerence; Draco Malfoy

Chapter Forty-Two: Melodramatic

We stayed, foreheads touching, for a few more contemplative moments. And during that time, it wasn't awkward. The air between us stayed free of conflict. Filled only with the sound of our matched, heavy breathing.

Until the after-effects of the potion kicked in. They hit almost instantly, and came crashing along in intense waves.

I could feel it: through the weight to my eyelids, in the ache to my limbs. Draco didn't seem to have escaped the effects either; his broad shoulders had slumped, and his eyelids appeared heavy.

I suppose, for a potion that heightens the senses and drains you of all your energy, it should've come as no surprise that extreame exhaustion should follow in its wake.

With my head feeling as though it was filled with cotton-wool, I pulled away from Draco. His arms had fallen limp at his sides. I heard the sound of shuffling whilst I averted my gaze. Then a zipper being pulled. A creak of the matress.

Frowning, I insitinctivley covered my chest -- like It'd suddenly hit me how cold the room was: All the heat had left my body.

I turned away and pulled his green jumper off the floor, quickly sliding it back over me. Now that it was all out of my system, self-conciousness had quickly made her return.

I dipped my head, letting my hair do its job at hiding the pink in my cheeks, and turned back to face Draco -- not having the faintest clue about what I was going to say to get rid of the awkwardness.

I hoped he'd start arguing.

It would make things feel normal again.

So I turned, sucking in a breath as my gaze landed on the bed. That breath was slowly exhaled--

Replacing itself with a confusing, bitter-sweet smile when I saw that he was already fast asleep. And in a very deep sleep too, it seemed.

I found myself edging over to the mattress, curious yet confused; because what the hell was I supposed to do now? I was sure he'd put locks on the door via a spell. Of course he would have.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I scanned over his sleeping figure, my eyes lingering a shamefull moment or two longer than nessacary on the low rise of his jeans against his toned stomach. Then flitted my gaze from the door and back. Conflicted.

Sure, I could use a unlocking spell. Sure, I could leave him here in the bathroom.

But. . . did I even have the energy to walk back to my dorm?

I curled my hands into fists and sat back down on the matress impatiently, feeling it bounce beneath me. Tugging his jumper down so it reached my knees, I shuffled forwards on the bed.

I wasn't going to stay. Oh-no. But it felt wrong to leave him without a blanket over him, and wearing only his jeans: he would get cold.

So I scooted across the matress, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over him. Tucking it in on his side -- and on my side as well as I lay back on the pillow next to his. I couldn't relax.

The bed was a decent size, but the way he had sprawled out - arms and legs in a star-fish position - made it so I was hanging awkwardly off the edge.

I was going to leave, I swear.

But I just wanted to catch my breath back first. Warm up under the covers. . .

Although exhausted, gazing over his sleeping face kept my thoughts sharp and buzzing. I bunched the sheets up in my fists, feeling my eyes growing heavier and heavier.

He looked at peace, when he was asleep. More so now than when I saw him sleeping in class. It was though the potion had smoothed over the storm which was usually raging across his sharp and pointed features.