CURSED [D.M]

-(28) he would burn all the worlds down

DRACO hadn't intended on attending this year's house party. He was in no mood to. The dread of the task he had to start working out occupied every crook and corner of his mind, save the ones that were already worrying over Zilliah.

He wouldn't have even thought of going down to the common room if Blaise hadn't flown into his room drunkenly mumbling something about a 'crappy looking asshole' and his very girl.

Zilliah.

No other word could set his feet into action that quick.

Grabbing his blazer from the nearby chair, Draco jumps out of bed and leaves the room with Blaise leading the way. Weaving through the sweaty and drunk students in the room, he finally spots her, pressed against the wall, a dark haired boy's lips pressed into that crook of her neck he had kissed and claimed to himself a thousand times over. Red creeps into his vision.

Pure anger envelopes him in an instant and he doesn't even realise the length of the strides he takes, shoving everyone and everything out of the way. Soon, his hand is coiling around the boy's neck, detaching him from her and spinning him around to face him. Ocean blue eyes, drunk and dazed, meets him with a lazy smile.

Draco beats it off him, sending him crashing to the floor, one tooth smeared with blood falling upon the green rug on the floor. The pounding of the music in the background increases his anger, his own heart hammering with a desire to inflict violence like he had never felt before- or maybe he had, that one time, when he had heard what McLain said.

That rage that threatened to burn the whole world down if so much as a hair on Zilliah's body was disturbed.

He would burn all the worlds down for her.

He lifts the boy from the floor only to send another fist into his stomach making him double over and fall to the floor again, this time face first.

He hunches over and makes to grab him again, this boy he didn't even know name of, this boy who had his lips tracing Zilliah's skin, this boy who had tried to take over what was his. He wants to hurt him, he wants to torture him, but Zilliah's voice comes, stern and loud, making him snap his eyes to her.

"The fuck do you think you are doing?"

He examines her figure which was slanted against the wall, her arms crossed across her chest. She is drunk, he can tell very clearly from the unfocused manner in which she glances at him. She never glanced at anything like that. She always paid careful attention- to everything.

"Let's go back", he tells her, leaning up straight and facing her.

"Go back where?" A lazy sneer.

"Back to my room."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head, tossing it back to face the ceiling. "No."

He can feel the fatigue in her- the exhaustion. He can feel all the built up misery and pain. All the bound ache and sorrow. He isn't angry at her, not in the slightest. He is angry at the world. He knows she doesn't even want to be here now. Not with that boy. Not with anyone else. He is angry at the world for giving her such agony that she can't even comprehend what she wants.

"You need to rest", he speaks, slowly, walking towards her. He can feel all the eyes in the room on them. Even the music had ceased at some point he hadn't noticed. But all he cares about is her. Only her.

"No."

"Zilliah-"

"I." Her eyes open, large and wide, with a wildfire burning behind them as it stares into his, making him halt. "Said." A step forward, pushing off the walls, unsteady yet fierce. "No."