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Summary
I finally noticed my knickers. Mum would surely be proud of the way the white fabric was hanging off the doorknob of the dingy motel room I was in. I could be called virginal for the pair, but by the identity of my bed partner, I’d say it was more of a white flag.
Beside me lay Malfoy, whose face was a mirror of my own: perplexed, and at odds with not only the space we were in but the fact that we were in it together. It surprised me that he didn’t seem regretful about our state of undress.
When I’d asked him why, he’d simply shrugged, as if saying ‘what else are we to do?’
We lay side by side in a perversion of romance, one of dependency: a symbiotic desideratum.
Or: A story of co-dependency in war.