BORN TO DIE ╱ DRACO MALFOY
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ . written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
044 ━━━━━━ ❛ suspicious whispers ❜

Waking up an hour later in the afternoon was something Olivia wasn't looking forward to. Yet her eyes fluttered open, and she was met with the stone walls, white metal beds, and itchy blankets of the hospital wing. She was lying on her side, so there was no pressure on her back to aggravate the pain.

"I've only ever seen this once before—and it was with her," she heard Madam Pomfrey say, sounding tired and worried. "When she was stabbed, the wound looked odd, then and now, and I didn't think anything of it at the time because of the intensity of the moment."

Olivia turned her head ever-so-slightly, only to see the shadows of three figures on the other side of a white curtain. She furrowed her brows, lying her head back down on the pillow she had, when her neck began to grow tired. Pomfrey was talking about her; that much was clear. And she wondered who the other two figures were.

"How were the wounds... odd, as you put it?" the tallest figure asked. Olivia recognized that voice—it was Dumbledore, which made her believe that the third and final was Snape, her dear ol' potions professor.

"As you two well know, when she was stabbed, she got an infection about a week later," Pomfrey continued, then she fell silent as she inhaled a deep and shaky breath. "Then, I had never seen anything like it—the infection that it is. But with the help of Severus, I figured out how to neutralize it," the woman explained, her voice laced with nothing but stress. "When I checked these wounds, there were no signs of infection like before." Someone must've started to speak because she quickly blurted, "That's not the odd thing."

Sighing, Olivia was tired of not being able to see their body language, even though all she'd be able to see was their shadows. So, slowly and as quietly as possible, she rolled onto her other side, being cautious of her back wounds. Even though she wasn't necessarily in pain, only feeling discomfort, she didn't want to risk doing more damage.

The three stopped talking as she settled on her right side, not sinking into the extremely firm, pitiful excuse of a mattress the bed had, and she was sure they had realized that she was awake and would stop talking. But after a moment, Pomfrey let out another sigh.

"When I checked these wounds," Pomfrey began again, clasping her hands in front of her. "They were—they were already showing signs of healing," she quietly admitted, and Olivia could see the woman's shoulders drop with defeat.

Olivia's eyes went wide. She was extremely confused and shocked by the information that Madam Pomfrey had just spewed to the two professors. Her wounds—the ones she had just gotten—were already healing? That wasn't possible. It shouldn't be possible. It wasn't. She didn't believe it.

"How is that possible?" Snape asked, his monotone voice not lacking a small hint of confusion. It was as if he were reading her mind. "She just got these wounds," he added, looking between the two he stood next to.

"I haven't the slightest clue. It shouldn't be," Pomfrey replied, sighing.

They remained quiet after that, mostly likely sharing glances with one another from behind the curtain. Olivia wanted to know what they were thinking. Her heart pounded in her chest, waiting for one of them to continue on, but none of them did. Her mind was racing, hitting the side of her skull and causing her head to pound horribly.

And then finally... "Until we figure out what is going on," Dumbledore began, his voice aging and not clearly showing any distinct emotion, "we mustn't tell anyone besides anyone absolutely necessary." He paused, looking between the other two. "Severus, you are friendly with her parents, I presume?" he asked, focusing on the man.

"Yes, sir." Snape nodded, not adding anything about the use of the word 'friendly.' Olivia wasn't sure that Snape or her parents even knew the definition of the word. She almost wanted to snort at the thought, but she couldn't let them know she was awake and eavesdropping on their little suspicious whispers about her. "I will let them know what's happening as soon as possible and see if they know anything that could solve this mystery."

Suddenly, someone burst through the doors of the hospital wing. Olivia's heart skipped a beat at the sudden noise, and she listened closely to see who it was. She heard the footfall of about five or six people, and it immediately dawned on her.

"She's sleeping!" Pomfrey blurted.

The curtain was dragged open, causing the metal rings to screech against the rod. Olivia winced, quickly sitting up in the bed like she had just woken up due to the loudness. Snape and Dumbledore gave her curious looks when their eyes landed on her. She pretended to be dazed as a result of her blood loss and slumber, which wasn't hard since she was still feeling a little lightheaded.

"Oh, Olivia," Pansy sighed, relieved to see her friend alright. Then she rushed over to her and wrapped her in a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're okay," she muttered into Olivia's hair, relaxing her muscles but completely missing the fact that her hands were pressing right into Olivia's back.

Olivia sucked in a breath, arching her back more into the girl's chest as she tried to move away from her touch. "Pansy, my back," she muttered in pain.

Pansy immediately let go of her, looking at her with worried eyes. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Olivia," she breathed out, placing a hand over her mouth. Then she leaned forward, glancing over the girl's shoulder, trying to look at her back. "Did it hurt terribly, Olivia?" she asked, drawing out her tone as she met her gaze.

"Which one? You touching my back or me being clawed by a hippogriff?" Olivia gave her a teasing look, which Pansy countered with a narrow-eyed look. Giving her a small smile just before looking away, Olivia picked at the skin around her nails. "Because the answer is yes." She shrugged, meeting her best friend's gaze.

"I bet," Theodore chimed in.

They went quiet for a moment as everyone looked around, not really knowing what to say, and Olivia sat up straighter. Then Daphne cleared her throat, cutting the silence.

The blonde dug in her bag, pulled out a white button-up shirt, and moved closer to Olivia's bed. "Um, I brought you a new shirt. It seems like you'll be needing it," she said, lightly chuckling at the end. When no one joined in on her laugh, she cleared her throat again, setting the shirt on the bed, then took a step back, looking down at her shoes.

"Right," Olivia muttered with a small nod. She turned on the bed, moving out from under the itchy blanket and standing up. Her legs were asleep, so she stumbled a little, feeling what felt like pins and needles pricking her skin. She balanced herself on the bedframe and looked up at everyone.

Pansy now stood, and they were all studying her with worry, not taking the hint that she was wanting some privacy to change. Olivia blinked, giving the curtain a glance, then cleared her throat when no one moved, nodding to the partially open curtain. "Do you mind?" She raised her brows, looking at the hanging cloth, then back at the others.

It dawned on Theodore first. "Oh, right," he voiced, moving forward. "Come on, everyone. Let's let Olivia get changed," he instructed, which was terribly out of character for him. He was never the bossy one. Well, his words weren't particularly bossy. But still, he sounded so out of place that even he furrowed his brows.

The others just stared at him but walked to the curtain anyway. When they were all out of Olivia's little section of the hospital wing, she drew the curtain closed as much as it could and could possibly go, which still left a part open. Luckily, her friends were on the opposite side, and no one would be able to see her since they were the only ones there.

Focusing, she quickly unbuttoned her bloody and ripped shirt and peeled it off. She threw it on her bed, then turned to a small mirror that was on the wall. With her back to it, she looked over her shoulder, studying the patchwork that Pomfrey had done. Surprisingly, she didn't see any blood seeping through the gauze, so she put her fresh and clean shirt on and buttoned it.

Once she was ready, she glanced around the room, picking up her ruined shirt and seeing if there was anything else of hers. Her bag wasn't there, nor was her robe or her wand. She hoped that Pansy or someone had grabbed them. Letting out a sigh, she pulled open the curtain and began walking towards her group, who were standing right near the door.

She had only taken two steps before Madam Pomfrey stepped in front of her, blocking her from moving any further. "You need to take this," the woman ordered, lifting a small vial of something and handing it to the girl. Olivia went to speak, opening her mouth and wanting to ask what it was, but the woman beat her to it. "I don't want you coming back here because you've gotten an infection again. I saw no signs, but better safe than sorry."

"Right," Olivia mumbled, studying the vial. Then, after a moment, she sighed, pulled out the cork, and downed the potion. It tasted terribly; she felt like she would be sick, but she swallowed it despite that. She grimaced at the aftertaste that lingered on her taste buds, then met the eyes of the woman still standing in front of her. "This is horrible."

"Better safe—"

"—than sorry. Yes, I know." Olivia sighed, handing the woman back the now-empty vial. "Can I go now?" she inquired, raising her brows.

Looking over her once more, noting the bloody shirt in her hand, Pomfrey let out a breath and nodded. She took a step to the side, letting the girl have a clear shot at her friends (and Daphne) and the door.

Olivia gave her a smile that seemed anything but genuine, and then she walked over to her group, who were not talking as they waited on her. And when she stopped beside them, she beamed slightly. "Ready to go? We still have time for lunch, right?" She glanced between all of them. "I'm starving."

"Only you could get attacked by a hippogriff and still be in a decent mood." Theodore scoffed in amusement, shaking his head as he looked away.

"Oh, come on, Theodore. It is not that serious; it was only a few scratches." And with that, Olivia pushed through the doors, making her way into the corridor and to the Great Hall. She really was extremely hungry.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

Now sitting in the Great Hall, Olivia sat between Lucas and Pansy, just as always. Blaise and Theodore sat across from them, while Daphne sat to Pansy's left. Draco was off talking to some other Slytherins about his experience against a hippogriff. Crabbe and Goyle sat on either side of him, fulfilling their great duties as his bodyguards.

"Yeah, if Olivia hadn't jumped in front of me, I could've lost my arm," he admitted, looking at the girls and boys (mostly girls) who sat across from him. He shifted his gaze over at Olivia, giving her a smirk as she glared at him.

Wow, he could've lost his arm? Oh no, what a poor boy! He almost got attacked by a hippogriff because of his own stupidity! How ever will he recover from that? Olivia bit her tongue, trying not to spew her thoughts for the whole Great Hall to hear, as he looked away from her and focused on one of the girl's in front of him. She hated to admit it, but she knew that her own stupidity was the reason she had the three wounds down her back that were sure to leave scars.

Rolling her eyes at her thoughts and Draco, she focused on her plate, stabbing a roasted potato with her fork a little more aggressively than necessary. She plopped the food in her mouth as she looked up, focusing on the familiar Gryffindors who were staring at her as they talked. She narrowed her eyes at Potter, Weasley, and Granger, watching as their mouths snapped shut and they looked away with wide eyes.

Good.

After another minute or a million of Draco going on and on about what had happened and exaggerating it as much as he could, Pansy faced him, narrowing her eyes in annoyance. "Oh, you poor thing. Did falling to the ground hurt terribly? Did the idea of almost getting hurt scare you so badly?" she inquired with a pouting lip, fake concern lacing her tone.

Draco's words fell short as he looked over at her with a hint of frustration. "Huh? Did you say something, Pansy?" He raised his brows, letting a smirk take over his features, while the ones across from him watched closely—the girls giving Pansy dirty looks.

"Yes, I did, Draco," she retorted with a sarcastic smile. "All your whining has been giving me a headache."

Before Draco could continue, one of the girls, a second-year Slytherin, spoke. "Who do you think you are to talk to him like that?" She looked Pansy up and down with disgust on her face and in her judging eyes.

Pansy raised her brows in disbelief as some students around them started to mumble amongst themselves. "Excuse me?" She scoffed, glancing over at the boys sitting across from her, then focused back on the girl.

"I mean, it's not just you... What's that girl's name?" She asked, waving a careless hand as her eyes moved between Draco and the girl she was talking to once before she focused on her plate. "Olivia, right?" Her brows furrowed in thought, continuing with that careless hand.

Olivia paused mid-bite and listened closely. She must've been blocked by Pansy enough that the girl didn't notice her or thought she was just some random person because she continued talking with not even a hesitation in her tone.

"I mean, I hear how she talks to Draco—like he's nothing," she admitted, meeting Pansy's eye. "Honestly, she acts like she's some superior—"

"I don't think you want—" Draco interjected, giving the girl a warning and a slightly concerned look just before glancing at Olivia, who offered him a devilish smirk.

Pansy raised a hand, telling him to stop. "No, Draco, let her continue. I want to hear what she has to say," she confessed, interlacing her fingers and placing them in her lap with clearly fake interest.

That was when the second-year girl seemed to notice something was off. But that didn't stop her from speaking. "I've heard all of the stories about her, and I truly believe they're exaggerations. And her being attacked twice since starting here, as well as fainting? I think that was her just looking for attention—the same goes for her way of speaking to others," the girl boldly explained, and some of the other Slytherins around them went silent, listening closely to her opinion.

"Is that so?" Olivia inquired, raising her brows and leaning so the girl could clearly see her.

The girl's eyes went slightly wider when she realized that Olivia had heard everything she'd just said. Olivia could fully see her swallowing the lump in her throat. "I thought you were in the hospital," the girl muttered, her voice small, like she had lost all of the courage she'd just had a moment ago.

Theodore and Blaise stifled snorts as they looked down at their plates. Pansy and Daphne exhaled deeply (the former's more amused than the latter's), both already knowing what was about to happen, while Lucas just rubbed his forehead, not looking forward to what was to come next. Draco looked a mix of concern for the girl's sake and entertained.

Olivia turned in her seat so that both legs were on the outside of the bench she was sitting on, and she stood, giving the girl a careless shrug. "I was," she began, taking a few steps forward as the girl backed further into her seat. "But now I am here."

Trying to be as confident as possible, the girl straightened her spine, flipped her long, light brown hair behind her back, and lifted her chin as she looked up at Olivia with her hazel-brown eyes. She had freckles dotting her nose, which Olivia could see as she moved closer, and her skin was light and pale with a soft, natural blush to her cheeks. She was a rather pretty girl, but with a rather nasty attitude.

Olivia stopped in front of the girl, crossing her arms as she looked down at her with her signature devilish smirk and soulless eyes. She only ever brought out those two if she found it necessary, which wasn't often. Most of the time, a simple glance in someone's direction would have them running for the hills.

Leaning down, bracing her right hand on the table and her left on the bench next to the girl's hip, Olivia watched as her confidence flickered for a moment. She offered an even deeper smirk, looking her up and down. "You think I do things for the attention of others?" Olivia asked, her voice low as she slightly pouted, making it seem as if she were offended by the accusations.

"I— No, uh..." Miss Pretty Girl stammered, leaning away from Olivia a bit more.

"Is that not what you just said?" The darker-haired girl interjected. "You said that the stories about me were exaggerations, that I get attacked and faint—from blood loss, might I add—and how I speak to others is all for attention," she reminded her, lifting her left hand and brushing a piece of fallen hair behind the girl's ear.

The girl shuddered, side-glancing at Olivia's hand before focusing on her eyes as the hand that had been touching her hair dropped back to the bench. She opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but she couldn't find the words she was looking for, so she quickly shut it.

Olivia furrowed her brows, leaning a bit closer and giving the girl a look of pity. "Cat got your tongue?" she inquired, pouting her bottom lip. The girl didn't respond; she just swallowed another lump in her throat. She took a moment to just stare at the girl with deviousness shining in her black-pit pupils like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Except it wasn't a light—it was fire. A bright, burning fire heating her gaze.

She exhaled deeply and stood up straight. "That's too bad," she muttered. "I like when people speak out of courage. It's such a shame that you only have it when I'm not around."

"I—"

"Oh, and I don't speak to Draco like he's nothing," Olivia added, glancing over at the blonde boy, who looked stunned. "I just don't agree with everything he says, and I most certainly don't fall to his feet like most...people do."

And with that, she began to walk away. But after a few steps, something else hit her mind. She turned around, looking at Draco, who was still staring at her. "And Draco?" She watched as his brows raised, snapping out of whatever daydream he was in. "If you mention that scratch on your arm again," she paused, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I will make it much worse."

Then she walked away, no longer having an appetite to deal with anyone. She made her way down the length of the Slytherin table, ignoring all of the looks and mutters in her direction as she passed, and went to the Great Hall doors. Just before she was about to push them open, Seamus Finnigan came bursting in, brushing past her without sending a spare glance her way.

Not really caring, Olivia was going to continue her journey out of the hall. But the Gryffindor boy shouted, "He's been sighted! He's been sighted!" for everyone to hear as he came to a stop at his house's table. And she stopped in her tracks and quickly turned around.

"Who?" asked Weasley as Olivia eased a little closer to the end of the table.

"Sirius Black!" Finningan replied, sounding a bit out of breath.

Students all around gasped and muttered amongst themselves as Potter, Weasley, Granger, and a few other students made their way to stand and sit next to the boy with the Daily Prophet. Olivia carelessly moved over to the table, taking a standing spot next to a sitting-down Granger.

Receiving some narrow-eyed looks of suspicion from the students clad in red and gold ties was to be expected since she was a Slytherin and, well, her. But still, she sighed before giving them all a raised-brow look that non-verbally asked what they were staring at. "Do you mind?" she inquired, sounding a bit annoyed.

"Not at all," Potter retorted sarcastically.

"Shouldn't you be in the hospital?" Finnigan chimed in with his thick accent and raised brows.

Olivia gave him a look of boredom before focusing on the paper. "It wasn't that serious."

"You fainted," Weasley added.

"It's not like it's the first time that's happened." Olivia rolled her eyes, glancing up at him, then back at the reason she was over there in the first place.

"Dufftown?" Granger muttered with surprise and some confusion, looking down at the paper and ignoring the bickering. "That's not far from here," she explained, sounding almost frightened.

"Y-You don't think he'd come to Hogwarts, do you?" Longbottom stammered, looking between his housemates, not even daring to send a glance in Olivia's direction.

"With dementors at every entrance?" A boy (who Olivia didn't know the name of) added, focusing on the nervous boy across from him.

"Dementors. He's already slipped past them once, hasn't he?" Finnigan reminded them, sounding unsure and skeptical about how well the deathly creatures could do their job. "Who is to say he won't do it again?"

He wasn't wrong. Sirius had slipped past them once, hence the whole escape from Azkaban and now being hunted. It was possible he could do it again, but Olivia prayed that the dementors would be able to stop him this time. Who was she becoming? Praying and putting her faith in the cold hands of dementors—the very creatures that almost stole what was left of her soul on the train—was unlike her.

Perhaps Lucas had been right before. Maybe Hogwarts really was changing her.

"That's right," the boy Olivia recognized from Trelawney's class added, snapping her out of her thoughts. His voice was ominous, almost so much so that it sent chills down the girl's spine. Almost—he was close but not quite there yet. "Black could be anywhere." He paused, letting the realization settle into the crowd of students' bones. "It's like trying to catch smoke. Like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands."

Olivia straightened her spine, focusing her attention on Potter as she inhaled deeply. The glasses-wearing boy was staring down at the picture of the escaped prisoner—the one taunting him with the reminder of his existence. He looked lost in his mind, trapped in his own world—whatever you wanted to call it, he was. Olivia knew the feeling all too well.

"They're going to find him," Olivia muttered in reassurance. Everyone looked at her, and she wondered if she spoke out of turn. She didn't know exactly who she was speaking to. Herself? Perhaps. Potter? More likely. Reassurance was always good in these situations, even if no one truly believed it.

"For once, Mallard and me agree on something," Weasley added, still sounding a bit unsure.

"Mallard and I," Olivia corrected, getting a pointed look from Granger.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

The cool breeze felt good on her skin as the moon cast a soft, pale glow on it. Olivia was sitting in the astronomy tower, per usual. It was her safe spot, and no one could blame her for that. The stars were out, twinkling brightly alongside the small crescent, and she felt calm.

It was like a breath of fresh air being up there alone—figuratively and literally. The first time that whole day, she could finally breathe. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of this place, not in a million years or a billion lifetimes. Never, ever, ever. She hoped nothing would ever ruin it for her—it was the only place besides two other places that made her feel comfortable. That made her feel safe.

The scratches down her back remained sore, but not so much so that it bothered her. Her mind still had lingering worries about Sirius Black being spotted not too far from Hogwarts and about the letter that she had received from her parents just after she'd left the Great Hall. A Ravenclaw, who was down in the owlery, had been told to deliver it to her since it was urgent.

It had read, in her mother's neat handwriting:

Dear Olivia,
          Your father and I understand that you've found yourself in a bit of a mess. Serverus wrote that it had something to do with a hippogriff. It is honestly foolish to have such a creature on the grounds at times like this.

          And what is this I hear about you being attacked on the train by a dementor? Why didn't you tell us immediately? And why were they on the train?

          Honestly, Olivia, you need to take your father's and my concerns to heart. You need to watch your back, or else you might get further injured—and none of us want that.

          Now, Sirius Black has been spotted, which I am sure you are well aware of by now. If you do know this, you know that he wasn't far from the school. Our fears may be coming true. So take this seriously, be careful, and look out for yourself and Lucas.

          Severus is there if you need any guidance. And no more incidents either, got it?

Sincerely,
Your Mother

Her mother had quite the way with words. She had such a way to make Olivia feel like it was her wrongdoings that caused this—the attack on the train, Buckbeak clawing her, and how Sirius may be after Potter. None of it wasn't her fault—or at least, not entirely—but the words on the fancy parchment still pegged at her heart like they were.

"Hey." His voice rang in her ears, soothing her despite the now barely-there disgust in her mind.

When had her despise of his voice died down so much?

"Hi," she replied as he sat down beside her. She didn't look at him, but the pale blonde hair to match his skin caught her sight in the corner of her eye.

"You didn't come to dinner." His voice was so soft, like he was scared she might snap at him. Maybe she was going to make her promise about making his scratch worse. Or maybe he thought the kindness she had shown him on the train and before Buckbeak's talons dug into her back was only a temporary thing.

He was staring at her; she could feel it, but it didn't bother her like it used to. He was always staring at her anyway. Why should it be different this time?

"Nothing new." She shrugged, resting her chin on her pulled-to-her-chest knees. Inhaling deeply, she fell silent, looking up at the stars like they were her lifeline. "I just didn't feel like socializing," she admitted.

"Right." He nodded, meeting the stars as well.

Both of them didn't make a single peep for a long stretch, focusing on the stars and nothing else. They were too caught up in the atmosphere to come up with anything to say. The stars were beautiful, the night sky was a dangerous dark blue, and the moon was only visible in a small curve. The air was fresh, chilly, and relaxing all around.

"The reason you haven't been able to find the Draco constellation is because you've been looking in the wrong spot and at the wrong time," she informed, cutting through the peace. "It's best to see it in July around nine p.m.," she added, resting the side of her head on her knees as she turned to face him.

He found her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. I read it somewhere," she replied.

They just stared at each other for a lingering look, not seeming to be able to take their eyes off of each other. It felt weird to Olivia. Just earlier, she was completely annoyed with him and his complaining (or was it bragging?), but in this moment, all of that was gone.

Neither wanted to nor knew what to say; the words were nowhere to be found, caught in their throats, floating in the wind with the night.

But as she studied him, Olivia finally remembered that one thing she'd wanted to say on the train before the dementor showed up and distracted her.

Not even thinking about her next move, she lifted her head off her knees and brought her hand to his hair. He watched her movements closely but mostly kept his eyes on her face while she ruffled his new-styled hair, messing it up a bit.

"I like your hair like this," she revealed with a soft voice. Her eyes stayed on him as she brought her hand back to her legs, wrapping her arm around them. "It's a lot better than the last two years," she teased, looking forward to the stars and resting her chin on her knees.

"Very funny," he retorted, though he sounded amused with a hint of something Olivia couldn't and definitely didn't want to place. He paused, not saying anything, and Olivia thought they would be silent once more. But before she could think—or rather, not think—any longer, he continued, "You know what Trelawney said is rubbish, right?" Their eyes found each other. "It doesn't mean anything."

Bitting her lip worriedly, she nodded. She had forgotten about that until now. "I know," she assured, but she sounded anything but sure. She turned away from him, her hands pulling her legs a little tighter to her body as she felt his eyes burning her skin. The thoughts continued to swirl around in her mind—the what-ifs and the worries—now joined with what the out-there professor had prophesied.

He gently bumped her shoulder with his, catching her attention again before she could get too far in her head. "Are you sure? Because you don't seem sure."

She glanced over at him, giving him a look of boredom. The cold and careless mask was put back in place.

Meeting her eye, he raised his brows, countering her look with a pointed one that was slowly but surely turning into a small, Draco-Malfoy-signature smirk. He knew that mask all too well—from being around her for three years and from being around himself for his lifetime.

Playfully rolling her eyes, ignoring his teasing smirk, she faced away from him and bumped his shoulder back in retaliation. "I'm sure," she answered, holding back a smile.

He quietly snorted, looking away from her as she put her chin back on her knees and watched the stars. And peace washed over them once more. Olivia thought that they were finally done speaking and that they could just sit there in each other's presence, watching the twinkling sparkles of the sky. Well, she was watching them; he was just staring at her, his focus falling between her face and the sky every so often.

"Why is it you're being nice to me now?" he curiously asked. "Well, besides threatening to make my scratch worse," he added, teasingly narrowing his eyes.

Inhaling deeply, she sat up straight, ignoring the look. She knew the question was bound to be asked at some point, and she wasn't completely surprised that he had just done so. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to find the right word, still not looking at him. "Uh," she muttered, slowly turning to face him. "I suppose I thought it was time that you and I became friends, of sorts. I mean, we might as well, since we'll never not be near one another." She didn't miss the lift of his brows at her words. "You know, since we have the same friends," she rushed out, not wanting him to think anything other than what she meant.

"Right," he nodded, inhaling as he looked away from her. "We might as well."

She opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it. Glancing over at him, she saw him looking to the sky, so she did the same, and then she looked back over at him, still wanting to say what was lingering on her mind. Sighing, she hugged her legs a little tighter. "Don't read too much into it, though."

"I'm not," he admitted with amusement, still not looking at her.

She offered a curt nod. "Good." Taking a deep breath and getting in as much fresh air as she could, she squeezed her eyes shut. Her face was on fire, and she didn't know why. She hated this feeling with everything in her. It was disgusting. So she buried her face in her knees, ignoring his dancing-on-her-skin eyes.

Don't read too much into it.

≀⋆⁺₊⋆ ꗃ 𖦹⨳✺

━━━━ ella's speaking !
this chapter is most definitely one of my favorites- i love it so much omg?? as always, i hope you enjoyed, and make sure to comment & vote!!

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━━ born to die,
© -LOSTGARDENS,   nov 2023

word count: 5610.   written: 11.21.23.   published: 11.22.23.