Theodore stood in the doorway to his house, his mother close behind him as she brushed a comforting hand over his shoulder, ''I'll leave you to it.'' She said, smiling before she walked away. Leaving her son to deal with the boy standing on the other side of the threshold.

The early morning breeze dragged calmly around them. He could feel the strong trail of alcohol as it lingered in the wind. The vague strokes of sun climbed the crowns of the trees. Shining some light upon the heavy embrace they seemed to be caught in.

He didn't speak. He simply stared at that blond mess standing in front of him. That was what he was—a mess.

His clothes disordered, his shirt half unbuttoned and pulled out of the hem of his wrinkled pants, his hair tousled, playing in the seeps of wind as it fluttered around them.

His eyes were swollen and red. His skin pale, a ghastly ashen shade took over. His whole self was chaotic. Theodore had never seen him like this. Not even the breakup with Pansy caused him to shatter as he did now.

''Is she here?'' Draco spoke, his voice cracked. His fingers nervously grasping at his wand before he placed it in his back pocket, ''She has to be here.''

Theodore pushed his lips together. Not allowing one single emotion to show upon his hard face. He meant to stay solid, steady.

''She has to be here.'' He repeated, blurting out his words, ''I've looked everywhere. She's not in school, not with Green or Walker, not in that house from last night, not at her own house—''

Theo tilted his head, straightening his shoulders, ''You went to her house?'' He frowned, dragging his brows together, ''When her mother was at home?''

''Of course, I went to her fucking house.'' Draco gritted, shoving his hands into his front pockets, ''I did something—'' He swallowed thickly. His throat had daggers ripping through every breath he seized.

''I messed up, Nott. I messed up fucking bad.''

Theodore's gaze slid away from him for a second, staring blankly at the yard around them before he was right back. Looking at his best friend, ''Well, she's not here.''

He needed to lie. He knew how Isla felt last night, how she came to his house, soaked in water and freezing, how she cried against his chest for hours, how she begged him to take her pain away.

''Fucking rubbish,'' Draco spat, nodding towards Theo's bare chest and the purple scars in his skin before his hand found the flare of his own shirt, and he pulled it aside, revealing the marks Isla had left upon him, ''I have those too, mate. So if that's not you engaging in some nasty shit with your cousin from last night — I know she's here.''

Theodore cleared his throat, folding his arms across his chest. Moored and solid. He had to. He couldn't cave, ''Draco—'' He sighed, his head dropping forwards in despair for them both, ''Let her be. Leave her alone for a few days, and let her process this.''

''So she told you, yeah?'' Malfoy shook his head, giving what sounded like a bitter laugh, ''If you know, you also know that I need to talk to her.''

''She's...'' Theo tried to stand his ground, even if it was hard. He couldn't get out of this situation without hurting one of them, ''You need to let her be upset. You hurt her, Malfoy. I know you've hurt her in the past — hell, I've hurt her, but this is different, mate. You said you loved someone else.''

Draco pinched his eyes shut for a second, breathing out heavily. There was so much ache running through his veins. He couldn't breathe. He didn't feel like he deserved to breathe, ''I know. I fucking know, and that's why I need to—''

''Need to what?'' Theodore bit back, his tone severe, ''Need to make yourself feel better by explaining something she's not ready to hear?''

Draco scoffed, but it wasn't the usual smug one. This was aimed at himself, ''Nott. You know what I did, and I need her to hear that—''

''What?'' He cut him short again, ''That you don't love Pansy anymore? That it was drunk you talking?''

''For fucks—''

''Do you love her? Do you love Isla?''

Draco looked away, his limbs shaking. His throat tightening, ''You know the answer to that.'' He said, coldly, ''Would I be here, begging you to talk to her if I didn't?''

''If you love her, you also know that this isn't the right way to do it. You can't force her to listen to you.''

''Then what am I supposed to do?'' Draco was slowly losing his sanity, ''Enlighten me, please? Because if I don't talk to her, it will look like I don't care, and I do. Nott. I fucking care. So what am I—''

''I think you need to get your fucking shit straight. I think you need to get your head out of your ass and realize what you're doing. Drunk or not, Malfoy — that was the worst damn thing you could've done.''

Theodore's voice riddled in disappointment, ''She tried so hard to wait for you. You should've seen her when you left school. She was a fucking mess. Why do you think that is?''

''I know!'' Malfoy shouted, his hands finding his hair as he tugged it back, desperately. The pain of more and more realization of what he'd done buried him from within, ''I know, alright? I fucking know. I'm a fucking monster for what I'm doing to her, but I—''

Draco had such a hard time dealing with his emotions, and this morning it got even worse. When he woke up, reaching his arm across the mattress to drag her closer to him, like he'd done every morning since she joined him at the Manor, to have her so close that he could bury his face in her shoulder and feel her tiny kisses on his arm, her side of his bed was cold — he panicked.

He panicked as he remembered what he'd done, what he'd said. He loathed himself for that. He absolutely hated himself as he watched the things he'd gotten her on the edge of the bed, and she was nowhere to be found.

She left.

Isla left him, and it was all his fault.

That was his biggest fear. The immense worry when it came to feelings — that she'd leave him. It was the sole purpose of him always leaving her because it was on his terms.

Every time Draco walked away, it was his choice. He didn't have to hurt if he was the one setting the rules, but now he got the worst taste of his own medicine.

He ripped the paintings off his walls, the books out of the bookshelves. He tore his home in pieces because of what he'd done, what he'd done to make her leave.

''Are you still in love with Pansy?'' Theodore asked, honestly. His voice was still laced with concern for what the answer would be.

He knew Draco took it hard when they parted ways, but he ever so believed that Isla mended that broken heart he carried, ''Because if you are, Draco. If you're still in love with her, you need to let Isla go. She can't go through that. Because she will, she will go through it because it's you. I think it's proven that she'd do anything for you, but it will kill her. I hope you know that.''

Draco backed up, his head tilting back to watch the dimmed skies above them. He felt so much guilt looking at Theodore, knowing that she ran to him, knowing that Theodore hurt her too and that she didn't see any way out of her own pain, the pain he'd caused her than to run to his best friend.

''I'm—'' He breathed. Sin, regret, remorse, everything poured over him, ''I found this old paper in my library last night... It was about Parkinson and me, from years ago and I—''

This was so hard for him. He had never done this with anyone else than Pansy. He had never loved anyone else before her. It was a constant battle within. His mind was fighting his heart, and never did he see the light of a ceasefire. He was stuck.

''I felt bad, Nott. I felt so fucking shit for just... for just caring for someone new. Pansy was there, you know? For everything, she was there, and then she—'' He huffed out, nearly mocking himself in a chuckle, ''Then she left me, and I still feel like fucking shit for moving on. No, I'm not in love with Pansy anymore. Have you met Clarke? Can you imagine even thinking about someone else when you are with her? Because I can't. I let those thoughts go a long time ago, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't feel bad. I do. I feel so bad.''

''And that's why you got drunk and tried to convince yourself that you still love her. Because it's terrifying loving someone else.'' Theo nodded slowly, ''You really care for Isla.''

''Of course I fucking care for her. I can't— I can't function without her.'' Draco lowered his voice, locking his fingers behind his neck, ''I got drunk, and I tried to... as you said, I tried to convince myself that I haven't moved on, but thinking back to last night right now... I have. I have moved on.''

He couldn't lose her, "Yeah, Pansy was my first love, but I have a hell of a feeling that Clarke will be my last."

''Then you need to tell her that. You need to tell her how you feel, mate. You can't keep expecting her to read between the lines. How do you expect her to react when you kiss her and tell her you're in love with someone else? I get that you have a hard time moving on and that Parkinson was there for you, but Malfoy...''

Draco's sight flickered to his. Pain, torture, agony. His eyes crammed in all the emotions he held.

''She's the one being there now. She's been with you for months. Yeah, she's with me too, but she didn't give up on you. She keeps holding onto you no matter how you treat her.''

It burnt within him. It burnt. It ached. It flamed an unbearable fire of emotions for her, and it felt like he slowly let go of all that restraint he felt before.

Theodore was right, more than it. Isla was the one still standing by his side. No matter how hard he made it for her — she always came back.

''I need to fix it,'' He was going out of his own mind. Even the thought of losing Isla caused it to rock sickly within him, ''What do I do, Nott? What the hell can I say to make her trust me?''

''Are you sure that you want to fix it?'' Theo countered, thinking of that girl hiding up in his room and all the ways he had to comfort her, ''Because it doesn't matter how, or how many times you do it, if it's going to keep happening. Because she'll let it happen. You know she will. She'll keep up with it because she can't stop caring even if her life depended on it.''

Draco's sight fell to watch the ground. He felt ashamed again.

''Do you remember at the beginning of this school year? Do you remember how we treated her? What we agreed on doing? The party? How we treated her after that? You beat up her best friend in front of her, and I lied. She's still here. She could've picked one of us, arranged something, and never looked at us again, but she didn't. She loves both of us in her own way, and she shows it. She tells you she does. Why is it so damn hard for you to do the same? To tell her the words she needs to hear? You obviously do. You're standing here, at eight in the morning, looking for her. You got expelled for her. And don't think I didn't see your handwriting in that law book she has. You tried to help her.''

''Fuck,'' He groaned, his voice broke again. He had to stare at heaven not to let the threatening tears fall. His best friend's words hit him somewhere nothing had hit him before, ''I do.'' He admitted, terrified, ''I do, and that's the problem. I care for her more than I ever cared for anyone that came before her. You know I do, and I can't—''

Theo knew how hard Malfoy was struggling. He'd seen it before. He'd seen his best friend fall in love and be left alone with it. He'd seen what that does to a person, how it sounds in the middle of the night when he wakes up crying, and he doesn't wish that upon anyone.

''I know,'' Theodore peered over his shoulder, ''She won't forgive me for this. I hope you know that. If I let you in, she won't...''

Malfoy's lashes fluttered, looking away. He tried so hard not to lose it. He did everything possible to stay intact, but it wasn't working. It was nearly impossible to do so when he was losing the person he felt like he couldn't live without.

He felt as if he was pathetic. As if he was someone that wasn't the type of man to beg and plead for mercy.

He'd never begged anyone before her. He'd never uttered in words for another human to grant him their mercy — except her. Isla. He begged her, over and over. He pleaded. He'd easily fall to his knees in front of her if he needed to.

''Theo, please,'' Draco said again, more demanding now. He couldn't risk Isla going a day without hearing what he had to say. He was so close to losing her, he could feel it, and being the one losing everyone in the past, this caused him to panic, ''I'll do what she asks. If she doesn't want to see me after this — I'll leave. I'll move away. I'll get so lost that neither of you has to worry about seeing me ever again, but please. Let me talk to her. She can't think that I meant what I said.''

Theodore still hesitated. He didn't want to betray her trust as he was about to, but at the same time — he believed she needed this. Isla needed Draco. She couldn't function without them. His heart crackled.

He nodded, ''For her.'' He said, speaking truthfully, ''I'm doing this for her, and you're doing this for her. If she asks you to leave— You'll leave. You don't get to force an apology upon her if she doesn't want it.''

_____

Shaking her head in denial, she backed up. Taking all those steps she'd taken towards Theodore, back, ''No.'' She said, her fingers finding the edges of the t-shirt she was wearing, ''No. Theo. No.''

He stared at the floor, his heart absolutely shattering for her and the way he was taking her trust for granted.

''Clarke...'' Draco shouldered his way past Theo, stepping into the room, ''Please.''

Isla looked away. She couldn't look at Malfoy. She didn't want to. Making herself as small as she possibly could, she kept shaking her head at them.

''I'll—'' Draco could barely speak, looking at her, seeing how much he'd hurt her. It felt dizzy around him, how the shoulder of the shirt had slipped down, how she had clawed and scratched at the initials in her skin. He hated himself, ''If you don't want—''

''I don't—'' Isla's sight flickered as she stilled. Her knees felt like caving, ''I can't.''

''Please.'' Draco said again, his voice thin, ''You don't have to say anything. Just listen, and then I'll go.''

Isla felt like crying. She just wanted to break out in a sob and let the ground swallow her whole. Her hair leaked messily around her, her skin shivering.

''Please, Clarke.''

''Fine,'' Isla swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. Her eyes found the brunet standing with the weight of the world on his shoulders in the doorway. He slipped out, quietly closing the door after him.

Malfoy didn't speak at first. He didn't utter a word as she breathed out, sighing at him almost.

''Clarke—'' He took a step forward, ''I know you won't... I know you won't believe me when I tell you what happened. I know you'll think that this is an excuse for acting as I've done, but it's not. You don't have to believe me, but I need you to hear it so that it's your choice to make. Your choice if you want to believe me or not.''

She stayed quiet.

''I fucked up.'' He mumbled, stepping closer. He was so close now, too close, ''I know I did. I didn't mean to. I know you think I meant it, but I didn't...''

She closed her eyes, feeling his body so near hers. It ached. It truly ached within to feel that. To feel him so close, yet he'd never been further away.

''I saw something in one of those old papers, and it was... it was about Pansy.'' She could practically hear the remorse in his vocals as he spoke, ''And I lost it. After telling you I couldn't live without you, I lost it.''

''I don't—'' Isla heaved out, she tried so hard not to cry at his presence, ''I don't know what you want me to—''

''Nothing,'' The dashes of pliancy were back, his fingers brushing against hers as she stood with her arms hanging, ''I don't want you to say anything. You don't have to.''

She nodded leisurely.

''When I saw those pictures in that paper, I felt bad. I felt so bad because...'' There was a split second where he looked away, gathering strength to bare himself for her, ''I don't love her anymore. I'm not in love with her, so I fucked up. I got drunk, and I tried to convince myself that I did, that I still loved her, but when you weren't there this morning... When I couldn't—'' He took another breath, ''When I couldn't hold you, Clarke...''

Isla's sight fell to the ground, tipping her head forwards. The feeling of his lips against her numb ones was crawling its way back. Everything Theodore managed to take away was there, all over again.

''I know I hurt you. I think I knew that I hurt you while I did what I did, but I couldn't stop. I needed to... I needed to see, to try and convince myself that I still love her, but all it did was make me realize that I don't. I'm not in love with her anymore. I know you don't believe me because I've hurt you too many times for my word to be of value to you, but it's the truth. I'm not in love with her anymore.''

Her eyebrows gave a swift twitch at his hands, slowly dragging his touch up across her arms. She looked back at him. Her eyes were pinned to his. He nailed her soul down through that narrowed gaze, ''Looking at you now... fucking hell, Clarke,'' His fingers stroked over her shoulders, across the outlined collarbones, ''I can't imagine feeling anything for anyone else.''

Isla was standing so still. She barely breathed.

''Do you remember how it felt when I kissed you? Thinking it was her?'' He asked.

She didn't answer. Her eyes held all the pain and answer he needed. There was so much hurt crumbling within her, almost as if he could feel it.

His hands moved to her jaw, shaking. Draco was shaking, ''You always tell me that I say something but show something else,'' He said, his breaths trembling, ''So let me show you just how much more I feel for you. Only you.''

Slowly, he leaned in. His lips pressed to hers. Not how she was used to, not at all. This was breathtaking, heartbreaking. She had never felt a kiss similar to this one.

It bolted through her. Jolts of electricity shot through her. Feeling vibrated, her veins rushed in it. It was so soft how he kissed her.

He kissed her so gently, so emotionally, so feelingly. It robbed the air from her lungs. It made the world fade from around her. Her heart missed a beat, two beats, three. He'd be the death of her if he didn't let her go.

Draco leaned back, his fingers stayed on her jaw, ''That's how it feels.'' He let out through a whisper, a bitter curl arched on his lips, ''Feeling for you, feels like that.''

She blinked quickly. Her lashes felt so heavy. She wanted to cry.

''I never felt for anyone like this, like I feel for you.''

Parting her lips, she meant to speak, but his finger stopped her, shaking his head, ''Don't.'' He shook, ''Don't say anything.''

She didn't.

Reaching down his pocket, he pulled up something that looked like a key, holding it between them before his hand grasped at hers, and he placed the key in the palm of her hand, bending her fingers over it, ''Take this. It's the key to that house from last night.''

She stared at their tangled hands as if it was something hurtful, something that pained her.

He sighed, ''I want that to be ours, not now, not until you're ready to forgive me, but the day you are — I'll be there.''

''Draco—''

He kissed her again, pushing his lips so tightly against hers that her eyes closed, the breeze in her lungs stalled, her hand slightly tightened around the key.

''I wish I could tell you what you want to hear,'' He whispered into her mouth, numbing her lips with his, ''I wish I could tell you how much I feel for you, and when you're ready — I will. I will tell you everything.''

She shook her head as he tried to withdraw. She wanted him to go, yet she didn't. She didn't know what she wanted anymore.

One part of her felt like he was manipulating her, taking her heart in his hands and fooling her until she couldn't decide right from wrong anymore, while the other part of her longed to be with him. That part knew he was speaking the truth because never did Draco Malfoy show her this much emotion.

''I said that if you wait for me, I'd catch you every damn time,'' That bitter curl on his lips was back. ''I think I'm ready for you to fall now, Clarke, because I'm finally ready to catch you.''

Isla stood with tears in her eyes as he let go of her, backing away.

It hurt so much again. Everything hurt so much.

''You're one beautiful girl, Clarke, and I'm sorry that I didn't realize that until now. But something tells me I knew it all along. I always feared beauty, not knowing what's hiding underneath, but let me tell you...''

Malfoy grabbed the doorknob, squeezing it tightly and staring at the ground, ''With you, I'm fearless.'' He said, and then he walked out.

And like always, she was felt in pieces behind.

______