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“I never said that,” he snapped angrily, voice rising.
“Draco, don’t twist my words around. You know what I mean,” Astoria glared back at him.
It wasn’t their first fight. But it certainly would be a long one. All the small things had piled and piled into this one big mess that left their relationship trembling.
Draco had no idea how it started, but before he knew it, their cosy living room had turned into a warzone, the air basically frizzling with the tension between them. They had skirted around this topic for so long, pretending that all was well, until it became inevitable.
He met her fiery gaze. “You should want someone better,” his voice rose as he continued, “someone you can parade around with, someone you don’t have to hid-”
“Oh, don’t tell me what I should want!” she snapped at him. Even though Astoria had changed into comfy clothes already, she still had the extra makeup from the social gala they had just come back from. With furrowed brows and assertive hands on her hips, she continued;
“I’ve already made myself clear, It’s just you who keeps running away!”
That struck a nerve. She always had a good aim, especially when it came to hitting all his buttons.
His jaw twitched. “Astoria, don’t lie to yourself.”
This was a recurring argument, though this was the first time it got out of hand. His crippling self esteem and guilt was a hill they were both trying to overcome, him more than Astoria. Draco was trying –really, he was. But it was these kinds of weeks, filled with extra judgment and whispers, that rattled his determination and led him back to his safe zone: self-isolation.
“Stop acting like -like this,” he waved his hands vaguely between them, “is something that was actually gonna work.” His words still had an edge to them.
It was a lie that he often fed himself whenever he got too happy.
No one was supportive of them. Her family, friends, the press, and even passersby, who had absolutely no business in their relationship. It was only a matter of time until their whispers got to her too.
One day, Astoria might just realize how much time she was wasting with him: an ex-school bully and death-eater turned social outcast, with enough nightmares to keep both of them awake.
Silence engulfed the room. Somehow, it was even heavier than the tension before. Draco only just realized what he had voiced.
Good. Let her be honest with herself for once.
(Even as the thoughts went through his head, Draco knew he didn’t mean them, he was being petty again. But he was too angry and too tired to care.)
He watched, his heart seizing, as Astoria's face transitioned from shock, hurt to rage, brows furrowing and regulating her blinks to stop tears.
‘You push things away before they can hurt you. The more you attach yourself, the more it will hurt.’
He was just protecting himself against the inevitable, the voice argued back at him, no matter how poor of an attempt it may be.
“Is that really it?” she was trying to sound indifferent but her voice wavered.
Her voice rose louder. “If you don’t want to continue,” she breathed angrily,
“if what what we have,” she gestured angrily between them, “isn’t enough for your high up the sky mights ass,” she yanked her jacket from the porch hook, “then just say it.”
“Dont give me that ‘you deserve someone better’ bullshit” her hair whipped as she turned to face him.
She crossed her arms, mustering all the venom in her, “Its not much consolation and I’d much rather have a straightforward answer than a sorry excuse.”
His temper flared.
“Excuse?” he glared. “You think I've been hanging around looking for the right excuse to dump you?!”
“gee i don’t know, maybe it's the fact that you bring it up in every single argument.”
“If you really think so, then have it your way!”
“I was going to!”
The door slammed shut.
_____
It had been exactly 9 hours, 27 minutes and 10 seconds. Despite himself, Draco found himself fretting and counting the time.
He hardly had any sleep on the couch, rehearsing a long apology speech and ready to intercept Astoria when she came back to their shared flat.
But she hadn’t. Astoria hadn’t come back for the whole night.
What if she doesn’t want to come back? What if it really was the last straw?
What if he had messed everything up?
All that’s left is regret and self-pity all over again.
When the clock struck 9 am, he stood up. Draco needed some air and time away from the suffocating atmosphere.
He met her on the stairs.
“Astoria”
Between now and the next words was an eternity of his fretful eyes on her tear-tracked face.
She broke it.
“I’m sorry.” She ran and buried her head in his chest, “I shouldn't have run out like that.”
“I’m sorry”
His apology speech long forgotten, he kissed the top of her head and hugged her closer.
“I didn't mean any of that,” he murmured. “I just…” “it was a heat-of-the-moment thing, Astoria”
“I just had a stressful week.” Merlin, he hated how it sounded like yet another pathetic excuse.
He pulled away, looking at her face.
“I’m sorry.”
“You better not say some nonsense like that again,” she sniffed
“I nearly believed you there.”
“I won't,” he kissed her forehead and pulled away to look at her face, “I'm sorry.”
“I really should put some common sense into that head of yours.”
She kissed him.
He pulled her closer in agreement.
“Oh, get a room!” Someone yelled. The postman or one of their neighbors, probably. He really couldn’t care right now.
“Lets take this upstairs?”