Scratching her knuckles against her eyes, she groaned, feeling as the aching pain in her body took over.

Isla didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to peel her eyes open to see the brightness the sun brought into her room. It was too early, and she couldn't comprehend one single thing.

All she knew was that she didn't want to wake up. She wanted to sleep, being so tired that her head barely had a chance to leave the pillow as she forced her palms into the mattress. Pushing her body up and she muttered to herself.

It took her moments. Silent, peaceful moments to actually peel her lashes wide and let the mellow light of her room embrace her. Isla huffed out a troublesome sigh. Her head tipped back as the sickly feeling rushed through her veins.

Her hand slammed over her mouth, crossing her legs as she bent forward over the edge of the bed, just in case she indeed needed to throw up.

It rocked within her, waves of unpleasant sickness grew, and she shifted, flinging her legs across the frame, and she put her head in between her knees.

Gasping as she caught herself without any clothes, only her bra, and her underwear as they barely hung onto her body. Isla jolted up, standing plain on two feet, and the frail feeling she carried poured off her.

Panic took its place, and she stumbled across the floor, into her bathroom, and with two hands on each side of the sink, she blankly stared at herself. Her mascara had smudged underneath her eyes, stains of tears and makeup smeared her cheeks — her hair in a tousled mess.

Diving into the shower, she got ready and quickly so — her body ached out of what she believed she'd done.

All Isla could remember was how Draco took her to bed, and then it turned dark for her. Her head clouded by the fight she had with Theodore and the way she'd been consuming alcohol for most of that night.

Grasping at the door handle, she tried to pry her door open without luck, and she brought her wand out, unlocking it with a mere spell.

Her feet hurt as she walked as rapidly as she possibly could through the hallways leading down to the Great Hall. She knew it to be time for breakfast and that her friends would most likely be waiting for her at their usual table.

A drift image of Mila, being heavily intoxicated, clocked her mind, and she couldn't help but smile shyly to herself.

Mila never let loose. She was constantly in a battle between being the proper girl and the one taking care of everyone else — the thought of her friend actually enjoying herself for a night caused her lips to curl.

Looking into the dining hall, her sight fell upon the two friends she aimed for, and she unhesitantly marched closer to them, striding up to their table and flopping down, forcibly on her chair.

Earning a groan for Mila as she did, ''Can you be careful?'' The girl grunted, annoyingly, ''Not everyone went to bed early.''

Isla pushed her lips into a firm line, furrowing her brows, ''Well, good morning to you too—'' She sought to speak, but the Ravenclaw merely shook her head, cupping her ears with her palms, and stared emptily down at the wooden table, ''Or not...''

''Moody,'' Leo snickered, shouldering Mila to the side. His face brightly lifted by the smirk he held, ''And to think you didn't listen to me yesterday when I told you not to drink that much.''

''Shut up,'' Mila muttered, her forehead dropped to the worn timber, and her arms framed her head, ''Just shut up, and leave me alone.''

Leo couldn't resist the chuckle he felt urging in the back of his throat as he arched his spine, pushing his lips onto her clothed shoulder, ''I'm only messing with you, darling.''

Wide-eyed, Isla caught the nickname, and Leo felt her stare as it burnt through him. His cheeks stained rosy, and he didn't quite dare to look at his friend.

''Darling?'' Isla smiled widely. She felt the warmth of her friends finally coming together as it bubbled within her, ''Well, I'm jealous, I never get called—''

''Don't you?'' Leo shot back, resting against the back of his chair, his hands placed on the table, ''Malfoy doesn't call you darling then?''

Sensing as the heated feeling within her bolted into an iced one, she gulped. Her eyes nervously flickered, not looking at her friend anymore, ''What—''

''Oh, come on, as I didn't see Malfoy carrying you upstairs yesterday,'' Leo raised a brow, ''But he seemed to be a gentleman because it took him a while to come back down—''

Isla winced back, catching the thoughts she tried so hard to suppress — she didn't know if she slept with Draco and that caused her to feel even sicker as she pushed her chair back, gripping the edges of the table.

''How—how—'' She stuttered, anxiously, attempting to collect the missing words, ''How long was he up there—''

Leo scowled at her, shooting her a suspicious frown, ''How long? Isn't that something you'd know?''

Mila's head rose, tilting to Leo, and she narrowed her brown eyes in his, ''What's with the answers, Leo? If he carried her upstairs — obviously she wasn't lucid, so why are you even—''

Rolling his eyes in amusement, he pushed his palm into the back of Mila's head, forcing her down into her own arms again, ''There you go,'' He licked his lower lip, grinning at the girl's loud sigh, ''Where were we, oh yeah, why wouldn't you—''

''I don't—'' Isla watched as her knuckles paled out of the hard grip she kept of the timber, ''I can't quite remember...''

''What?'' He blurted, not keeping up with the conversation at all, ''How can you not remember—''

''Oh, for the love of God, Leo!'' Mila shouted, earning the attention of students around them as she cocked her head, looking straight at the alarmed boy, ''She was drunk! She was drunk, and Malfoy carried her back to her room. Is that really so hard for you to understand? Even I got that, and I was—''

''Yeah, darling, what were you?'' The corners of his mouth dryly dragged out, forming yet another smirk to climb him, ''Were you—''

''Don't you dare,'' Mila tried to warn, her arms folded over her chest as she glared at him, irritatingly, ''Besides, is it so wrong of us to have some fun from time to time?''

Isla's cheek landed in her palm as she zoned out from their yelling. Her mind overworked to remember all the missing pieces she held from the prior night.

She clearly recalled the fight she had with Theodore, and simply the imagination of that caused her to shudder.

It wasn't pleasant thinking about it. How they'd been screaming and fighting with each other around other people and how she cowered from speaking back to him.

All the way to when Draco confirmed the one thing she feared the most when it came to the brunet — he was using her. He wielded her to his own pleasure and to get back at the blond. She wasn't as important to him as she sought to be.

It hurt her feelings, indeed. She didn't know Theodore that well, yet it felt like such a loss in her life, knowing that the first few occasions of them spending time together was him, using her.

Her jaws gritted against the pad of her palm, and she slightly shook her head, slowly drifting back to Leo and Mila, still talking about who might be right and who would be wrong in their argument.

''I told you that I didn't understand—'' Leo rolled his neck again, shrugging at the brown-haired girl, ''You can't attack me like this every time—''

''Of course, I can! What Isla does and doesn't do is none of your business. What she does with Draco isn't something that concern—'' She tried to declare, sounding serious that it even caught Isla's attention.

''No, but he beat me half to death! Of course, I'll be looking out for her—'' He shoved his chair back, creating distance, ''I don't get why you're so mad at me for checking up on her?''

''I'm not mad that you're checking up on her. I'm mad that you're trying to make something out of it. You didn't even ask about how she was doing. You went straight to ask her if Malfoy is calling her darling, and to me, Leo, that's a bit rude.'' Mila's chin rose as Leo quieted, somewhere knowing her to be right about it.

''Yeah, I didn't mean—''

''Of course, you didn't.'' Mila quirked a brow, disappointingly shaking her head at him, ''Sometimes you can think before you speak, and not shove my head down into the table, darling.'' The last word slipped off her tongue with sarcasm, and Isla tightly pushed her lips together not to laugh.

''When you're putting it this way, damn it—'' He muttered, dragging a hand through his hair and his face cloaked in remorse, ''I'm sorry, Isla, I didn't mean to intrude.''

Clearing her throat, Mila scoffed at him, turning her head, and Leo instantly caught on, leaning forward as he let his hand rest on her jaw. The boy pushed his lips against her cheek and mumbled, ''I'm sorry for being rude to you,''

Isla could see how Mila quickly caved at that, pouting playfully before she shifted back, smiling shyly at the boy, ''Thank you,'' She whispered, ''Now, don't let me drink again, or we will have a problem, Leo.''

He laughed out at that, neatly as he nodded. His sight snapping to Isla's as she toyingly rolled her eyes at the both of them.

Isla felt good knowing that it could be what they had. That arguments and different opinions could be held and that it could be solved afterward. It gave her an ounce of hope in the choice she was drowning in. She looked around discreetly.

Not thinking clearly, she peered down the Slytherin table they were seated at, and not even a second later, her eyes hooked in his.

The damned eyes she'd feared would catch her.

''I have to—'' Isla spoke underneath her breath, standing up and backing away, not wasting a second as she stumbled, ''I'll see you—''

''You didn't even eat!'' Leo yelled after her, making heads snap in their direction as she tried to go unnoticeably. She didn't wish for any attention in this state. Not as much as a glare she craved to get.

Isla hurried, as fast as she could, she tried to make her way through the corridors, down to the Slytherin dungeons before the boy she could feel chasing her got a hold of her.

''Clarke!''

Her limbs ached from the exhaustion of last night. She was so tired.

''Clarke, for fucks sake!''

She didn't stop, pretending she didn't hear him at all — she simply kept on walking.

''I'm not asking you again, Clarke. Stop right fucking now or I'll—''

Isla felt the fuming rage within as she drew a deep breath. Not once did she understand the audacity this boy carried, turning around in her steps, ''What?'' She snapped, ''You'll do what, Malfoy?''

He was storming up to her, his steps aggressive and plain. The blond stopped, right as she could feel the wind he dragged with him and his scent as it stuck to her.

''What are you doing?'' He growled out, staring her down as he towered over her, ''What the hell do you think you're doing, running away from me like—''

Her brows knitted, and she rose her chin, gaping just as heedlessly back at him, ''Like what?'' She felt her skin burn at where his breaths fanned it, ''Like what, Malfoy? What am I doing that is so unpleasant?''

Rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, his severe stare shot daggers through her, ''Yeah, Clarke? What the fuck are you doing?''

''That doesn't make any—'' Shaking her head, looking away from him, a displeasing dash showed in her pupils, ''What do you want? I don't have time for this.''

Draco scoffed, disturbingly, ''What do I want?'' His voice leveled higher, his hand gripped her arm as he pulled her into him, ''I want you to fucking listen to me, that's what I want. I want you to stop running away from me like a child on a fucking sugar high, Clarke. Can you do that?''

Moving her neck, she looked back at him. Her face so close to his now and the hand, tightly gripping her arm, brought her the last longing inches, ''I'm—'' She gulped, nervously, ''I don't have to listen—''

''To me, yeah?'' He mumbled, ''Then who are you listening to, Clarke? Who are you taking your orders from? You certainly don't have Nott to make you scream anymore, so that leaves me, doesn't it?''

Her lashes fluttered, quickly, ''Don't—''

''What?'' His breaths tasting so sweet on her lips, her mind clouded by his closeness, ''Don't do what?''

''Don't do this to me,'' Isla whispered, her lips parted, ''I can't stand against you, you know that.''

''Why would you?'' His voice vibrated through her, her nose so near to stroke against his, ''Why would you stand against me when you can be shaking—''

''I—'' Her eyes pinched shut for a second, catching her breath as she tilted her head forward, ''I need to ask you something.''

Scowling as he let go of her, taking a step back and distancing himself from the chaotic girl in front of him, ''What?'' He spat, rudely, ''What is it now? More accusations, perhaps? More claims that I am using you?''

Isla felt disbelief as it flushed through her veins, and she didn't want to ask. She didn't wish to be the person that was so blacked out that she didn't even remember if they did something with each other.

It was embarrassing to her — knowing the hellfire he'd bring down on her if they indeed slept together, and she didn't remember.

''Did we—'' Her fingers anxiously toyed with the edges of her sleeves, ''Did we do something—''

Draco laughed out, maniacally, almost. His hands were thrown out, and his fingers found the blond stands he possessed, tugging them back desperately at her lack of understanding, ''Are you out of your bloody mind?''

He grimaced at her evilly, ''Do you truly think that I'd take advantage of you when you were that drunk, Clarke? What has gotten into you—''

''Well, I don't know? That's why I'm asking, isn't it?'' She yelled back, in pure frustration, ''All I know is that I woke up in my bloody bed without clothes on and the last thing I remember is you—''

''Yeah, because I found you drunk and messed up out in a hallway, Clarke!'' He gritted, his whole face shun cooly, ''You poured a whole fucking bottle down your throat, and then you passed out. What did you want me to do? Leave you there for everyone else to see you like that?''

She hushed, her chest heaving as she blankly stared at him.

''That's what I thought, no—'' He shook his head, sighing irritatingly, ''No, I didn't fuck you while you were passed out if that's what you're asking. The things you keep thinking of me, Clarke, I can't fucking believe you.''

Strands of her wavy hair spilled across her shoulders, lively as she took a step closer to him, her brows dragged together and her face in a disapproving grimace, ''Is that really so wrong of me? To think what I'm thinking of you? That you could be this bad person, I obviously make you out as?''

Now it was Malfoy, staying quiet.

''You call me all kinds of names. You say that you hate me and that you're disgusted by me every single day, Malfoy. You do things with me, and then you leave with someone else, and now I know it wasn't what I thought it'd be but am I really so in the wrong for doubting your intentions?''

She felt as if her chest was going to rupture, ''Your best friend was using me, right in front of you while we did things in that changing room, and still, you didn't tell me. I'm not blaming you for it. I might have, last night, and I'm sorry for that, but you can't be mad at me for having doubts when it comes to the both of you.''

''Don't you fucking dare—''

''No, don't you dare—''

Draco threw his head back, groaning within his mouth, but she was quick to cut him short, ''No, don't give me that, don't give me that attitude when you know I'm right, I haven't done a thing to you except finding your name on a bloody paper, and that's it. I don't have to be honest when it comes to Theodore and me, sleeping together—''

He didn't falter. When he heard those specific words, dropping from her tongue, the temper he'd been holding onto, caved and within a heartbeat — he placed his palms on each side of her jaws, and he slammed her body into his.

Malfoy kissed her, fiercely and Isla, unhesitantly, melted right into it.

Her hands grasped at his neck as he arched, meeting the gesture, moving his lips along hers until they were both out of breath. She pulled back, peeling her eyes broad, only to notice that he was already looking at her.

Keeping his expression severely, he held onto her jaw, ''Don't ever bring him and what the two of you did together, up ever again, or I might just have to fuck some sense into you.''

Her arms slowly slipped down from around his neck, and she kept looking up at him as he hovered over her, ''What?'' Isla licked her bottom lip, trying to keep her head clear as she taunted him, ''That Theodore fucked—''

''Enough,'' Draco said, calmly yet dangerously low, ''I'm a man of my words, Clarke, and when I say that I will fuck some sense into you—''

He cocked his head, grinning excessively, ''Just know I will.''

Lifting her brows, looking startlingly at him as she backed away at a slow pace. Her sight didn't leave his for a second, and she smiled bravingly.

''I might just take you up on that one, Malfoy.''

_____