I'm Going to Kill You, Darling
I'm going to kill you, darling. (eight.)
Draco opened the door and waited, patiently, for her to wake. He took a seat in corner and watched her chest rise and fall gently, listening to her soft breathing.
She was incredibly beautiful as her natural self, unchanged. He knew her near black eyes so well, the image burned into his skull, her soft lips parted slightly, in an almost smile, but her eyebrows furrowed, making her menacing, even unconsciously.
He laughed at this, softly, but her eyes suddenly opened, backing Draco’s theory that she had an on/off switch. She sat up and frowned at him, then slowly stood before him. His hands snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him, she leaned down carefully to him, then stopped, mere centimetres from his lips.
“Get out of my room,” she muttered, then kissed him briefly.
“Mixed signals!” he smirked, as she kissed him harder, her breath quickening.
Oh Merlin!
Her low laugh reminded him of her ability to get inside his head, and he tried to focus on nothing but her soft, full lips, her sweet, somehow dark scent, the way she was only partially there, he wondered what was disturbing her so much.
His hands ran through her long dark hair, never reaching a tangle, her hair so smooth and soft, her hands pulled on his neck, leaning him closer to her, eliminating any air space between them...and then she cut off.
He looked at her, breathless, his chest heaving, confused.
She smirked, and answered his unasked question, her fingers laced with this.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle me, Malfoy, I’m stopping this while you have a chance.”
He raised an eyebrow, not handle her? Did she not realise who he was?
“Yes, I know who you are, and it only backs me up.”
She suddenly wasn’t smiling, to trace of humour in her beautiful, tortured face. He stroked her cheekbone and ran his thumb over her pursed lips.
She dropped her voice down to a whisper so faint that if he had breathed, he wouldn’t have heard it.
“I’ve killed people, Draco, killed them and had them killed. Innocents, anyone who got in my way, babies...”
She was incredibly beautiful as her natural self, unchanged. He knew her near black eyes so well, the image burned into his skull, her soft lips parted slightly, in an almost smile, but her eyebrows furrowed, making her menacing, even unconsciously.
He laughed at this, softly, but her eyes suddenly opened, backing Draco’s theory that she had an on/off switch. She sat up and frowned at him, then slowly stood before him. His hands snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him, she leaned down carefully to him, then stopped, mere centimetres from his lips.
“Get out of my room,” she muttered, then kissed him briefly.
“Mixed signals!” he smirked, as she kissed him harder, her breath quickening.
Oh Merlin!
Her low laugh reminded him of her ability to get inside his head, and he tried to focus on nothing but her soft, full lips, her sweet, somehow dark scent, the way she was only partially there, he wondered what was disturbing her so much.
His hands ran through her long dark hair, never reaching a tangle, her hair so smooth and soft, her hands pulled on his neck, leaning him closer to her, eliminating any air space between them...and then she cut off.
He looked at her, breathless, his chest heaving, confused.
She smirked, and answered his unasked question, her fingers laced with this.
“You wouldn’t be able to handle me, Malfoy, I’m stopping this while you have a chance.”
He raised an eyebrow, not handle her? Did she not realise who he was?
“Yes, I know who you are, and it only backs me up.”
She suddenly wasn’t smiling, to trace of humour in her beautiful, tortured face. He stroked her cheekbone and ran his thumb over her pursed lips.
She dropped her voice down to a whisper so faint that if he had breathed, he wouldn’t have heard it.
“I’ve killed people, Draco, killed them and had them killed. Innocents, anyone who got in my way, babies...”