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Pale. He’s so pale, paler than you’ve ever seen. You try your best to not let your fingers tremble in the surgery room, while your brain screams at you for falling for this bastard again.
After all, he pushed you away in the most brutal way possible.
They say that the opposite of love isn’t hatred. They say that the opposite of love is indifference.
And that’s exactly how Draco broke up with you before he went on this mission — arguably one of the most dangerous ones the Order has ever asked any of its members to attend.
As one of the most powerful aurors and undercover spies that side with the Order, he was assigned to participate in this mission and, by keeping it a secret, he successfully arranged his departure.
You had no idea what was going on. One day he told you at dinner that he needed a break. He told you that he was tired. He told you that you were tiring him. He told you many other complaints and concluded that he was leaving.
As if it didn’t hurt.
And when you asked, with cracks in your voice, whether he has ever cared about your feelings, he replied, “Did you seriously think that I give a flying fuck about you?”
You packed your stuff and left your shared apartment.
Sure, everyone knows he is dark — in a highly metaphorical sense. But he used to be your Draco, your sweet, soft boy whose sarcasm brings you nothing but joy.
Maybe things change much faster than what you anticipate.
Including this situation you find yourself stuck in right now.
Busying yourself with tasks and working with an efficiency that distinguishes you from other healers, you quickly mend Draco’s broken leg and heal the scars scattered across his toned chest.
Even when he’s unconscious, his whimpers and sniffles when the pain becomes unbearable make your heart clench.
· · ─────── · ✧ · ─────── · ·
When you walk into his room after the surgery, he’s already awake.
He stares at you as you bring him a glass of potion.
“Drink this,” You softly say, “it’s a painkiller potion.”
Looking at you the entire time, he reaches for the cup and drinks its contents as his Adam’s apple moves up and down.
He hands the cup to you and you put it away on the table on the other side of the room. He probably expects you to leave, and for a split second when your eyes meet, you wonder if there’s longing in those stormy eyes.
You walk towards his bed and sit on a comfy chair to its left.
Refusing to look at him, you stare straight ahead at the walls and the light green patterns of the wallpaper.
“Why?”
Draco’s word comes out more as a plea than a question. You still don’t look at him.
You know he’s referring to why you’re staying by his side even after all the things he did to you. Now that you know about this mission, you understand that Draco pushed you away because he doesn’t want you to feel bad about him if something goes wrong in this mission.
Your lightly say, “You being a bad boyfriend isn’t related to me being a good healer.”
A long pause. “I’m sorry,” he says with a low voice.
“I know,” you exhale.
You can feel his gaze burning holes on your face, but you still don’t look at him as he says, “You’re the only light in my life.”
Clearing your throat, you matter-of-factly state, “Thank you.”
Something clicks.
Despite the grunts he lets out due to the abdominal pain, he sits up and narrows his eyes, tone suddenly becoming menacing, “Is this what we’ve become? I say something and you reply as if I meant it like a compliment that strangers awkwardly exchange?”
A teardrop rolls down your face and you whisper, still refusing to meet his gaze, “Don’t forget that you’re the one who pushed me away saying you don’t give a flying fuck.”
There’s so much more you didn’t say —
Don’t forget that you’re the one who promised to protect me.
Don’t forget that words hurt.
Don’t forget that we were once in love.
And maybe still are. Which makes everything so much worse.
“You could have talked to me. Or at least left me in a gentler fashion. Did you really think that, for some reason, hating you would help me move on?”
Draco lowers his eyes. He doesn’t have it in him to tell you that he is a coward.
He did what he did because he couldn’t leave you in any other way.
If he was nicer, then he would give in and stayed instead.
He understood that the world needed him — so he chose to forget that he needed you.
But in his pain he also forgot that you needed him.
A heavy silence settles between you two.
You clear your throat, minutes later, whispering, “Was any part of your departure speech true?”
Your gaze flicked towards him for a brief second, catching a glimpse of his knitted brows and a gorgeous yet exhausted face.
He tries to sit up straighter, but groans again when the pain strikes. “Holy fuck, I nearly killed myself by spitting venom at the only human being I actually care about. Now you’re killing me again by asking if I ever loved you—”
“And you don’t think I’m shattered?” You interrupt, broken yet determined. There are so many emotions in the way your voice cracks, “Did it ever occur to you, on a rainy day like the one when you kissed me or on a sunny one like the day of our last date, that I am made of flesh and bones and feelings, that I absolutely fucking missed you it drove me mad, that I love—”
“Don’t say it,” he curtly interrupts.
“Say what?”
“Say that you love me. I can’t fucking handle it.”
When he looks at you, you know that your love for him has not died. Not at all.
Tears are now freely falling from his beautiful grey eyes. He chokes on his sob, and you quickly move closer to his bed and pat his back.
Instincts. Habits. Muscle memory. Small things that you don’t even notice but have long memorized.
When his breath becomes more regular, his frozen, shaky fingers encircle your arms.
He looks up at you, straight into your eyes, “Do you feel that? My fingers, I mean. I’m frozen. Always draining you. Your heat, your emotions, your happiness. For God's sake, you need someone who isn’t a fucking death eater--"
"Ex-death eater--"
"Okay okay, but that doesn't change anything. I don’t deserve any part of you. Your smiles, your temperature, your softness, your light. Because you are my light. You are the only light I’ve ever seen.”
Your legs are wobbly but you refuse to break down in front of him, “Was that what you were thinking when we were together?”
He tilts his head in confusion, “What?”
“Were you thinking about how you needed to eventually part ways with me?”
“I…” He turns away, cheeks flushing.
Gently, you cup his cheeks and let his gaze meet yours once again.
“But Draco, that’s the problem. I’ve never wanted to leave you, ever. I want to be by your side whenever, wherever, whatever happens. I want you as a lover, a partner, a lifelong companion. But I understand if you don’t feel—”
“No, no,” he frantically shakes his head, eyes pleading, “don’t fucking consider that. I love you so much. I need you. I can’t fucking survive one day knowing that you think I don’t love you.”
His hands find yours. Holding tightly, he whispers again, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so fucking sorry. I should have stayed. Should have communicated. Should have trusted you. Should have loved you, and, us.”
These words send your heart soaring but also suffocate you at the same time.
You lightly hug him.
It still feels right.
He hugs you back without hesitation.
Inhaling your scent, he hugs you even closer to him.
“Please, give me another chance.”
“Hmm?”
“Hi, I’m Draco Malfoy, and I love you.”