by Morvoren

Draco wondered if that is what it felt like to lose your mind. He stared into the reflection beaming out of one of his innumerable mirrors and wondered just when the fuck life had gone round the twist.

Or perhaps, to put it more accurately, when he had.

The reason he's wondering is right now tucked up into her bed inside the girls' dormitory, no doubt blissfully asleep and unaware of this turmoil raging within Draco. It killed him, just killed him that the dormitory wasn't Slytherin and the girl wasn't just another stupid brainless twat who'd do anything for the great Malfoy.

He runs a hand through his blond hair, mussing it from its usual careful arrangement and what the fuck does he care about that right now? He's fucking in love with a Gryffindor bitch and appearance is the last thing on his mind.

He can call to mind perfectly every second of their conversation, the last one they had at the top of their lungs right underneath Gryffindor tower and where she'd slapped him for saying something and then kissed him a breath later.

He remembers the feel of her lips on his, so sweet and alive and spicy and...and why the fuck can't he move on? People've done it before, they've just walked away from what they called love and moved the fuck on.

But...this, he doesn't think he can get over.

Because this is the girl for him, and there's never going to be another. And no matter what anyone thinks about him, he's still flesh and blood and bone with emotions and feelings and wants and needs. And oh, does he need.

His life isn't hard in the usual sense, but the sheer lack of anything resembling caring is getting to him. Perhaps that's the reason all of this is falling so neatly in line for him now -- he's been so long without someone that actually sees him that he's gone mad.

Yes, that must be it.

That must be the reason he's coming all unglued, that's why he thinks he loves her and that is all it is. She's just a warm body that kissed him and the reason he's attracted is that she's got a brain and some fucking guts.

Yes, that's the reason. So Draco hies himself off to bed, satisfied that he's resolved his problems and never once letting himself think that whatever he's just said to himself has been one big lie.


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