BETWEEN REVENGE AND LOVE

Sunday, 06/10/1995

The room is wrapped in silence, save for the soft sounds of our breathing and the quiet crackle of the fire across the room. Draco's bare chest is warm against my back, his arm wrapped around me, fingers tracing lazy circles along my shoulder and collarbone. 

He's holding me close, his touch gentle yet possessive, as though grounding himself in me.

Neither of us has spoken in a while. When he finally breaks the silence, his voice is quiet, almost fragile. 

"Why does it have to be like this?"

I sigh, closing my eyes, leaning into him further. "What do you mean?"

But I know exactly what he means. I've been avoiding this topic, hoping to sidestep this moment. Playing dumb is much easier than trying to give him an answer that I simply do not have. Or more like, I simply do not want to give him.

"Nelly," he murmurs, his voice soft but edged with a tension I can't ignore. I turn my head, meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark, intense, holding mine with an honesty that's hard to face. His jaw tenses before he speaks again, his tone barely more than a whisper.

"This... you and me, you and Theo, how long are you going to keep this up? Why should I be fighting for you? You like me, I know you do. I can see it, feel it. So why keep him in your life. He's an immature amateur. I bet he can't even make you come."

I roll my eyes at him, swallowing as I search for words that feel honest. 

"Draco, it's complicated." I pause, unsure how to continue. "What I feel for you and Theo... it's different."

"But how?" he presses, his voice wavering with frustration, a vulnerability I rarely see in him. 

I reach up, brushing a strand of hair from his face. 

"Why can't it just be you and me, Nelly? Is that not enough for you?"

His hand tightens gently on my shoulder, as though he's afraid I might pull away. I bite my lip - how do I make him understand?

"It's not like that," I groan, "it's complicated, I already told you. And it's not about one being better than the other. It's just... different."

"Different," he repeats, his voice carrying a mix of disappointment and determination. He pulls back slightly to study my face, his gaze searching. 

"You know I'm not one to share."

There's a rawness in his eyes, a side of him that makes my chest tighten. I can feel the weight of what he wants me to say, but the words won't come.

"Draco," I whisper, unable to finish my sentence. He looks at me, still searching for something - maybe reassurance, maybe understanding.

He catches my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my fingertips before pulling me closer. His thumb traces slowly along my jaw as he sighs, his face inches from mine.

"For now," he says quietly, his gaze unwavering, "I'll tolerate this... for you. But I need you to know, Nelly - eventually, soon - I'll want you to choose me. Completely. Not as a half-measure. Not as a part of something else."

His words settle deep in me. I reach up, threading my fingers through his hair. 

"What if... what if I just don't know how to choose?"

He studies my face, and after a moment, his expression softens. He leans down, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss, but it quickly deepens, conveying everything he's holding back, every frustration and feeling he hasn't voiced. 

His hands pull me closer, wrapping around me as though he can't bear to let me go.

"You will choose," he murmurs against my hair. "In the end, you must."

I know he's right. And the truth of it terrifies me. 

For now, though, I close my eyes and lose myself in the warmth of his embrace, in the softness of his touch, the way he makes the rest of the world fall away.