CURSED [D.M]

-(48) cruel cruel words

DRACO could stay like this forever, with Zilliah's head in his lap, his fingers running through her hair, her scent filling up every last bit of air around him. He knows this is exactly what he wants for life- that she is exactly what he wants for life.

A happy, complete life.

But is he really happy right now?

Happiness. True happiness. Has he, for once in his life, known what it is?

"Draco", she mumbles, fluttering her eyes open to gaze into his. Gods, he could never get tired of looking into those eyes of hers.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he asks, "What is it, love?" He feasts on the smile that spreads across her face when those words reach her. He smiles himself as he takes in the single dimple popping its way out of her cheek and the crinkles beneath her eyes. He loves it. Moreover, he loves that he is the reason for it.

"Will you ever forgive her?", she asks like a child curious about what fire does.

It burns. Fire burns. That's what it does. The smile vanishes. Draco's masks claw back in. "Never."

She opens her mouth to speak again but Draco doesn't have to silence her. Her mother enters the room to do that for him.

Zilliah sits back up, meeting the stone-cold gaze her mother holds.

"You went to the Malfoy Manor? Alone?!", Daphne yells at her face.

Draco can see the hurt flashing across Zilliah's features. She flinches.

She could've been dead by now. But that doesn't matter to Daphne. She doesn't bother to hug her daughter or comfort her after what she's been through. Is this how parents all around the world behave? Focusing on the mistakes of their children when they should be holding them and  comforting them instead- telling them it's alright- that it'll all be alright even if it might be a blunt lie.

When Zilliah tugs at the hem of his sleeves, he helps her to her feet, getting up himself.

"I need some rest, mother."

"You're so damn reckless, Zilliah. What am I to do with you?!"

"Cage me up!", Zilliah's words are abrupt and loud, and Draco can already feel the fire starting to ignite within her. "That's what you've always done, isn't it?"

"It was for your own damn good. Please understand that", Daphne steps forward, her arms outstretched, her tone softer, either sensing how Zilliah is on the verge of a breakdown or to manipulate her emotions.

"Do not touch me", Zilliah warns nonetheless, not letting the facade deceive her. And Daphne halts, hurt. Frustrated. She makes to speak but Zilliah beats her to it. "There were days I've craved your touch, mom. For your gentle caresses and head massages and forehead kisses and what not. Gods", a maniacal laughter escapes those soft lips, "I've even cried through entire nights thinking about how I've never had them."

Daphne tries to fight back the tears that emerge in her eyes. "I did what I had to do. You were the princess- the heir-"

"I was a child", Zilliah explodes with years of pent-up rage and frustration. Draco can feel it rippling off her in waves of such intensity that it even scares him to his core.

But when he looks at Zilliah, he doesn't see a threat. He just sees a broken child. Desperately trying to glue her shattering soul back together.

"You weren't just any child!", Daphne doesn't give up.

Excuses upon excuses as to why a parent hasn't had the heart to truly be one.

Not all people deserve to have kids.

Draco can see the defeat registering on Zilliah's face and he wants nothing more than to get her out of this conversation that isn't going to reach anywhere. "She needs some sleep", he mumbles out to her mother and grabs hold of her wrist, ready to take her away.

But Zilliah doesn't budge. She stares at her mother with her eyes hollow and lifeless, a dry desert where no life could ever thrive, no water ever to be found. "I wish I was never born", she says.

Draco's chest pangs.

Daphne blinks, the tears that no longer could be contained, starting to roll down her face. And the words she speaks next- that pure poison- it's the one thing that no mother should ever even think of speaking to their child. No. Matter. What.

Draco feels as if he is watching the whole of it in slow motion. The words rolling out of Daphne's mouth in spite and pain. It breaking through the barrier of Zilliah's deserts. Water seeping it's way into the sand.

Right at that moment, Draco could swear on everything he believes that he hears a part of Zilliah die.

Such cruel cruel words.

"I wish you were never born too."

Not all people deserve to have kids indeed.