Hide & Seek

Chapter 12 - Adumbrate

Chapter 12
ADUMBRATE

adumbrate
(v.) to foreshadow; a prefigure

DRACO'S nostrils flared as he eyed the piece of paper atop the silken sheets.

Gemma watched as the fury in his face transformed into something that looked more along the lines of haughty amusement. The tilt of his lips told her she had missed the mark by miles.

"You thought I was there to see you?" his scoff seemed to rattle inside her skull, "How fucking tragic."

Draco rounded the bed so he was on the same side as Gemma, his larger build casting her completely in shadow as he stood above her.

He raised his arm abruptly, and for a second Gemma thought he was going to strike her across the face. But instead of the expected slap, he lifted his right hand so that it was held barely an inch from the tip of her nose.

His long, slender fingers held steady in her vision. She had to squint to get the image in front of her to focus properly, her brain trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

A thin, barely visible scar ran from the tip of his thumb, wrapping across the front of his palm, and disappeared beneath the sleeve of his robes. The familiar pattern of a gash that could only be caused by an escaping Snitch carved its way across his porcelain skin.

Gemma's breath met the back of his hand as she exhaled shakily, and Draco retracted it almost immediately as if the steam from her lips would burn him.

His grimace deepened as he took a step back, fists retracting and clenching in on themselves. Without another word, he stormed over to the door of the bedroom, grasping the handle firmly in his furious grip.

It seemed like he was always surrounded by thunderclouds. Rainy, dark, and maddening.

"I read."

Draco's hand paused in its movements, the cold metal of the handle cooling the same spot her breath had brushed.

"When I don't want to think. When I can't bear to be alone with my thoughts anymore. I read," continued Gemma, standing up.

She picked up the pillow she'd let fall to the floor, patting it lightly to rid it of any collected dust, fingers playing at a stray thread, "So I understand—the want to escape your own mind."

Draco's bitter response met the wood in front of him, not even bothering to face her as he spoke.

"I didn't know you could read. Congratulations."

Gemma winced as the thud of the door reverberated against the walls, shutting her eyes instinctively against the noise. Her shoulders slumped, releasing a tension she hadn't realized had been knotted at the base of her neck.

She mentally scolded herself as she tried to swallow the tightness in her throat, standing up straight and smoothing out the few barely-there wrinkles in her robes.

Usually, Draco's petty words didn't affect her much. If anything, she usually felt angry or defensive when they got into their quarrels. She'd never once felt truly hurt by the venom he spewed, but the current nagging in the pit of her stomach was tellingly uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was because he'd had the nerve to voice the exact thoughts she'd been troubling herself over the past few weeks.

That her friends didn't need her.
That she just got in the way.

She should've known better than to pick a fight with Draco Malfoy.

Shaking her head, Gemma hurriedly finished making the remainder of the beds and gathered up the left-over linens into a neat pile.