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A Daydream Away
I let out a soft gasp as I heard the sound of leaves crunching behind me. I whirled around, my wand was aimed at a pale, white-blond haired boy around my age with mesmerizing cold ice blue eyes with hints grey flecks in them. His expression was contorted into one of confusion, fear and slight anger.
When he saw me he opened his mouth to talk but I quickly cut him off, “Who are you?” I demanded, noting that he raised his wand slightly so, I lowered mine. “How did you get here?” My question went unanswered as he turned to take in everything before turning back towards me. “Where am I?” He sneered, stalking towards me and stopping right in front of my face and he towered over me. Ate age thirteen I was a measly 4’11 where as this boy had to at least be 5’2 .
“You’re in my head, my imagination of some sort. Like a dream or a daydream.” I informed this boy who must have been a figment of my imagination.
“I ’spose I just… dreamed you up?” I offered, shrugging lightly.
“No, I’m real. You’re not.” He spoke with an air of confidence. I was offended. How could this.. This BOY enter my own imagination and tell me I’m not real, when he was the one that wasn’t real.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the real one.” I stated and pinched my own skin as to prove a point, wincing as I did so as it had already started to form a bruise. He raised an un-interested eye brow as he started at me as if I was stupid so I scowled and pinched him hard, not thinking it would hurt him. He let out a yelp of pain, slapping my hand away harshly.
I gaped at him, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you were real!” I apologized profusely feeling horribly guilty.
He rolled his eyes an went to stand by a tree, his back facing me.
“How many times to I have to say I’m sorry?!” I asked exasperated, flailing my arms around as his harsh glare settled on me. I whimpered looking away before glaring off into the distance. My legs soon got tired so I focused on wanting a sitting area and soon everything changed.
We were in a replica of my room. The walls were black but my room held color, there was a queen size bed in the center of the large room with sapphire green duvets, a huge walk in closet, a mahogany desk with a pile of quills, ink and written on parchment along with blank parchment. My guitars in a corner of the room and a broomstick hanging on the right side wall, and scattered lazily on my wall were some of my drawings and a few photos.
The boy who’s-name-I-still-don‘t-know looked around but didn’t say anything. I took hold of his hand and placed him in my too big for me closet and the sliding door behind us.
He protested as I locked the door and stared at me with an odd expression. He tried to get out of the door hurriedly, as he feared for his life but I moved the fake wall and gave his hand a tug, pulling him inside to a small but cozy space while I placed the wall back into its rightful position. He looked around in awe, “You hide in your closet, and stock it with a couch, junk food and drinks?” He scoffed, holding back a smile. “You’re a weird one.” He smirked.
“Laila Paix De Coeur” I smiled and held my hand out.
“Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” He smirked and shook my hand.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Draco Malfoy or any other character mentioned in the book. I do own Laila though. Rated NC-17 though I seriously doubt it won't go past PG-13. Just a warning incase it does.
When he saw me he opened his mouth to talk but I quickly cut him off, “Who are you?” I demanded, noting that he raised his wand slightly so, I lowered mine. “How did you get here?” My question went unanswered as he turned to take in everything before turning back towards me. “Where am I?” He sneered, stalking towards me and stopping right in front of my face and he towered over me. Ate age thirteen I was a measly 4’11 where as this boy had to at least be 5’2 .
“You’re in my head, my imagination of some sort. Like a dream or a daydream.” I informed this boy who must have been a figment of my imagination.
“I ’spose I just… dreamed you up?” I offered, shrugging lightly.
“No, I’m real. You’re not.” He spoke with an air of confidence. I was offended. How could this.. This BOY enter my own imagination and tell me I’m not real, when he was the one that wasn’t real.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the real one.” I stated and pinched my own skin as to prove a point, wincing as I did so as it had already started to form a bruise. He raised an un-interested eye brow as he started at me as if I was stupid so I scowled and pinched him hard, not thinking it would hurt him. He let out a yelp of pain, slapping my hand away harshly.
I gaped at him, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you were real!” I apologized profusely feeling horribly guilty.
He rolled his eyes an went to stand by a tree, his back facing me.
“How many times to I have to say I’m sorry?!” I asked exasperated, flailing my arms around as his harsh glare settled on me. I whimpered looking away before glaring off into the distance. My legs soon got tired so I focused on wanting a sitting area and soon everything changed.
We were in a replica of my room. The walls were black but my room held color, there was a queen size bed in the center of the large room with sapphire green duvets, a huge walk in closet, a mahogany desk with a pile of quills, ink and written on parchment along with blank parchment. My guitars in a corner of the room and a broomstick hanging on the right side wall, and scattered lazily on my wall were some of my drawings and a few photos.
The boy who’s-name-I-still-don‘t-know looked around but didn’t say anything. I took hold of his hand and placed him in my too big for me closet and the sliding door behind us.
He protested as I locked the door and stared at me with an odd expression. He tried to get out of the door hurriedly, as he feared for his life but I moved the fake wall and gave his hand a tug, pulling him inside to a small but cozy space while I placed the wall back into its rightful position. He looked around in awe, “You hide in your closet, and stock it with a couch, junk food and drinks?” He scoffed, holding back a smile. “You’re a weird one.” He smirked.
“Laila Paix De Coeur” I smiled and held my hand out.
“Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” He smirked and shook my hand.
Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Draco Malfoy or any other character mentioned in the book. I do own Laila though. Rated NC-17 though I seriously doubt it won't go past PG-13. Just a warning incase it does.
- Chapter; 01
- Chapter; 02
- Chapter; 03
- Chapter; 04
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Chapter; 05
Edited. You might wand to re-read at least the ending before you move onto chapt. 6 - Chapter; 06
- Chapter; 07