Chapter Text
Draco finally allowed himself to spend as much time with you as he wanted. Which meant he spent every day working in your shop. He refused to take money from you. Which was good because you only offered once out of courtesy. He ironed the seams of his family’s clothes for the Christmas Party. He swept up every thread you tossed over your shoulder while you made them. When the day finally came, he cut it short to have dessert with you on the couch in front of your changing room. Your sewing time was only a little longer because of the kisses Draco demanded.
Come Christmas morning, there was a beautiful coating of snow. It inspired you to create three different designs. Draco slipped in through the front door, pulling your attention from your sketchpad. You waited for him at the register, smiling at him as he made his way to you. He pulled his hands out from behind his back, a very small gift box cradled in them. Your smile fell.
“You said no gifts!” You groaned. Draco shook his head with a fond smile.
“The clothes you made me count.” He countered. You shook your head.
“False.” Draco stood across from you in front of the register. You leaned forward on your elbows, giving him a peck. His smile broke it apart. He slid the box across the counter.
“Open it.” He muttered. You grumbled but pulled at the bow on top. You removed the top, staring down at the inside. A key sat on top of a lining of velvet. You glanced up at him in confusion.
“It’s super cute.” You complimented. It looked like every other key. Draco gave you a knowing look and tilted his head.
“Where’s your coat?”
He dragged you through the snow. He grumbled when you started shivering but still forked over his scarf. He stopped in the middle of the street, making you turn around. You raised a brow, worry washing through you.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, searching for a wound. He jerked his head to the side.
“This is your gift.” You glanced to the side. An empty store stared at you. It had a display window on either side of the door. Its windows were covered in paper on the inside. On the outside was a clear ‘Sold’ sign. You looked back to Draco.
“You’re taking me out to an empty storefront?” You asked. Draco pulled the box from his pocket, digging out the key. He pressed it to the lock, pushing open the door. He stepped inside, jutting his arms out. You followed him inside, slowly turning around in a circle. It was spacious with good floors and bland paint. Two closets in the back and a door to the left. It was nice. It was too nice.
“It’s yours.” He said. You shook your head.
“I can’t afford this.” You muttered.
“That’s why I bought it.” He reached out for your hand, dragging you to the door to the left. He pushed it open, letting you inside. You gasped at the space in the room. There was enough for two sewing machines and two sergers. There were windows. It was so bright and airy in there. And in the back, you could see a door.
“Is that a closet?” You asked, spinning around to Draco. He nodded.
“For your fabrics. You’ll have enough space. I promise.” He said. You nodded. You thought of the cost. It was on the street walk too, so the price would’ve been higher for that. There was enough space for a woman in a shoe.
“This is-”
“Don’t start.” Draco snipped. You paused, pressing your hands to your face.
“Is this real? Are you really doing this?” You asked. Draco scoffed. He stepped closer to you, pressing you against him.
“We’re going to fix this place up a little. A little paint. Some furniture and decorations. And then we’re going to open up your shop, and so many people are going to love your designs. And every customer is going to feel like a little mouse that walked into a tailor shop.” Draco whispered, rubbing his thumbs back and forth on your hips. You gave him a soft smile, pulling at the lapels of his winter coat.
“On my card.” He added. You frowned. Draco shook his head. He tipped forward, pressing his lips to yours.
“It’s too much.” You grumbled, pulling at the wool. Draco shook his head.
“No.”
“How can I repay you?” You chuckled, pulling your arms over his shoulder. Draco snorted.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something.” He muttered.
For months, your life revolved around creating your dream shop. Draco actually did find some pleasure in the labor of love. He refused any power tool and preferred to call a professional. He would paint and hammer a few nails to hang decorations. He even called his friends over and had them help. They were all over the moon to meet you and kept referring to you as ‘The Designer,’ which you didn’t hate. Pansy loved your decor and actually gasped when she saw some of your designs.
Draco gave you everything you wanted, even down to the tape measure sign out front and the thread spool vases. However, he did giggle as he set them out. He even gave you the scissor door handles and your buttons hanging from the ceiling.
He still had bad days where everything made him jump, but it was much easier with you by his side and a job to do. He could ignore the screams in his head by painting the swirls you wanted. He could press his nose to your neck and overwhelm the smell of blood in his memories with the smell of your shampoo and sweat. The shop made things easier. There was always a task, and always something he needed to do. At the end of the day, he could step back, pull you to his side, and see the work you both put in.
When you finally opened your doors for business, the orders were rolling in. Your four mannequins in the window had people foaming at the mouth. Moving fashion was the newest hit, and you were at the front of it.