CURSED [D.M]

-(80) the end of everything he has ever known

DRACO lays on Zilliah's bare stomach, his fingers tracing circles on her left thigh, his eyes closed. He's just finished making love to her, and he already wants to do it again. He wants to explore every inch of her, inside and out, leaving not even a mere gap hollow of his touch, his words, and his soul.

But he's tired. And so is she. The curse seems to be draining them more than they thought. He can feel it reigning within him, hissing and pounding for dominance, waiting with bated breath for the day it can finally claim his flesh.

Unluckily for whatever shitty magic this is, Draco is never one to go down without a fight. They'll be flying to the island this evening, along with Theseus, Layla, and Theo. Blaise insists on coming but Draco will seek Aneesia's aid to make him stay back here. Because whatever is lurking all over those ruins of Supernova, they're not anything good. And Blaise, being a father now, cannot walk into that sort of trouble. Draco's not even sure why they're walking into it themselves. But he trusts Zilliah. He trusts her more than his own intuitions. And he knows she has an idea of what to do and what to seek.

Nonetheless, even lying here, listening to her steady breaths, he can't wring himself free of the crippling anxiety that floods his system. He's scared of what Zilliah will pull if she realizes they can't get their hands on the cure. He isn't so much of a fool as to believe she will just stand by and let the both of them die, no. She'll do everything in her power to save his life. But he will do everything in his to save hers too.

Apart from that, he is also scared that in seven days, he's expected to turn Zilliah in to the Dark Lord or get Narcissa abused for failing to. He doesn't even know how that fucker expects him to find a girl that is completely out of the loop. Voldemort doesn't know of them and Narcissa wouldn't dare to risk Draco's life by telling him the truth, he is sure of that. Yet, that shell of a man expects Draco to find his daughter who is supposed to be a ghost to everyone within the time period or have his mother thrown off to man wolves who will show her no mercy. It infuriates him but he will have to figure out a way in which both Zilliah and Narcissa get out unharmed. He cannot keep choosing between the people he cares about. None of them deserves this. And he isn't going to make the same mistake he made with Pansy. Not again.

"What's haunting you, Draco?', Zilliah's voice calls out, ceasing the flood of thoughts in his head.

He opens his eyes and climbs up her body to meet her face, a small smile forming on her lips. He presses his own lips against them, wanting to feel her happiness, her warmth. He wants to feel every emotion within her, be it anything, for what she feels, he wants to feel that with her. He doesn't want to exist without her- without their souls merged as one. "I've just been thinking", he breathes against her skin.

Her hands rise to his face and cups it. Distress seeps its way into her eyes. "About what?"

He knows he has to tell her about Volemort's order. But he cannot bring himself to plague her further with it. "Just about the war, my darling", he chooses to say, because well, it's not exactly a lie but it's not the truth either.

She pulls him down and he nestles his head against the dip of her neck, balancing on his elbows on either side so as to not crush her beneath his weight. Her fingers trail up to his hair and weave between the strands, as she brings her lips to his ears and whispers a promise. "We will see the end of it soon, Draco. We will, I tell you that."

And he doesn't ask how. He doesn't ask when. He just melts into her skin, wanting to stay there forever.

Yes, this war will end one day. It has to.

But why does it feel like, with the end of that day will come the end of everything he has ever known?

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