This chapter contains destructive thinking, blood, and so much heartbreak.

I sobbed my eyes out while writing this, and I am so sorry, but remember that we'll see them all again. <3

Here we go. Hold my hand, will you?

_____

Isla Grace Clarke.

Pain is a funny thing, don't you think?

Pain can be portrayed in all kinds of shapes, forms, and patterns.

Some are in pain because of an injury, perhaps they'd cut themselves while cooking, or they'd fallen off their bike. Other's are in pain because they want to be, like getting a tattoo. Nature causes us pain too, like giving birth.

Pain can be caused by accident or knowingly.

Have you caused someone pain?

I never thought I would be someone's gravest source of pain. I never believed that I could cause so much harm to another person that I broke them.

Draco was always that person for me.

I was hurt by things Theodore did. I was hurt when he lied to me. I was hurt when he left me, but it didn't cause me the type of pain Draco was capable of pouring over me.

I always said it. He is the one I am scared of because once he hurts me in that way — nothing will be able to save it.

He hurt me a lot. I hurt him too. We hurt each other.

Now I hurt him in the way I always feared he'd hurt me.

Isla burst out in tears.

She couldn't stop it even if she tried to. Isla didn't try. She knew there wasn't a point in trying.

Her eyes were swollen and red. Her throat hurt from crying. Her chest was so tight — so rigid that it ached. Her lungs felt like they were about to explode any second now, yet she couldn't find the strength to inhale properly.

Hyperventilating. Her pulse skyrocketing. Her heart both thrashed and stilled in her chest. It was like her heart battled her mind and left her as the finished chaos.

''Isla...'' Theodore tried, but in vain.

She couldn't hear him.

Isla couldn't focus on anything but the heartbreak she'd seen on Draco's face. That was the worst part. He didn't look angry or absolutely furious as she was used to. He looked hurt, like she broke him, like Theodore broke him.

He bought her flowers.

He bought her his mother's favorite flowers.

You bought me flowers.

You've never gotten me flowers before.

You bought me the same flowers you buy your mother every day. You believed I was worth the same kind she was.

I'm not, Draco.

I'm not, and I think you know that now. I could never be worthy of you or the beauty your heart is carrying, and let me tell you why.

''Isla,'' Theodore placed his hand on her shoulder, slightly yanking her back, ''Isla, look at me.''

''I need to—'' She heaved, trying to form her words, ''I need to go after him.''

Theodore frowned, stepping around her, ''What? Isla, you don't even know—''

''I don't care,'' She tried to wipe her tears away, but nothing could stop her pain from pouring, ''I need to find him, Theo.''

''How?'' Theodore asked, his hands moved up and down her bare arms, ''He broke your wand. You don't have your magic. How are you supposed to know where he went?''

''I broke his heart,'' Isla's voice shook as she spoke, ''I broke his heart. I owe him this, Theo. I need to find him. He can't leave like this.''

Isla stepped back, tugging at the sheet as it covered her weak body. She went straight for one of Draco's shirts hanging over the backrest of a chair.

Dragging the material over her arms, she buttoned it hastily. She was barely capable of doing that. She reached for her underwear, and she pulled them up over her legs.

''Let me come with you,'' Theodore hauled the cover over his waist up, feeling it slacking, ''I'll help you find him.''

''No.'' She sobbed out, turning around to face the brunet, ''I did this. I lied to him. I have to be the one to fix it.''

Theo halted in his steps, and he watched her with agony in his eyes, ''Do you?''

Her breath stilled. Her chest closed in on her as she managed a vague, ''What?''

''Do you have to fix it?''

The question lingered in the air for moments. Long seconds where all she did was look at him with so much disbelief on her face.

''What is that supposed to mean?'' She breathed through her tears.

Theodore combed his fingers through his hair. Something crackled in his chest. She noticed.

''You want to run,'' He said with pain ripping through his vocals, ''You want to run with me.''

Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

Is this it?

Is this where you ask me to choose?

Is this when you become everything I didn't believe you were?

Is this where you break my heart, Theo?

He walked up to her, using slow steps until he caught her chin in his hand, tilting her head up to face him.

''Please,'' Theodore silently begged, ''Please, don't go.''

''Theo...'' Her tears kept falling, her words fragile as if she'd break any second, ''Don't do this to me.''

''Why?'' He let his thumb run over her cheek, wiping the aching tears away, ''Why can't I ask you to stay?''

Isla stayed silent, and merely the sound of their beating hearts shredded through the room.

''Because you don't love me enough to stay?'' He asked, so quietly that her insides were torn to pieces.

Theodore had tears in his eyes.

''Because you'll choose him?''

Isla shook her head, her fingers grasped at his bare chest, ''No—'' She cried, ''I told you that I won't. I won't choose.''

Theodore gritted his jaw and looked down at the floor, ''If you leave, you choose him.''

I knew this day would come.

The day you give me an ultimatum.

Everyone else already has. It was just yours left.

You never forced me to do anything, Theo. You kindly came along for all I asked. You never questioned me or made me choose.

Are you asking me to choose now?

''Please,'' She pleaded as she felt him pull away, ''Please don't ask this of me.''

''Why?'' He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, ''Why can't I ask this of you? You love me, and I love you, Isla. Is it really that wrong of me to ask you to stay?''

Isla didn't know what to think, what to do, how to speak.

''I've never asked anything of you besides trusting me and keeping my secrets. I've never asked you to choose or explain yourself when it comes to us, and that's my biggest mistake. I should've taken you, and I should've kept you to myself, but I was so fucking foolish, thinking that we could make this work.''

His grip on her face tensed, ''So is it wrong of me, Isla? Is it really that wrong of me to ask you to stay? To actually choose me, like I've chosen you every damn time?''

''It's not—'' Isla caught his hand as it fell from her chin, and she brought it up to her lips, kissing his knuckles, ''It's not wrong, Theo, but what if that would've been you?''

He frowned, still not looking at her.

''What if you were the one who walked in and saw Draco and me like that? What if you didn't know about his parents, and you found out while we talked about running away?''

Isla silently cried against his hand, holding it tightly in her grip.

''I could never let you go either, Theo. You said that you would follow me everywhere, to hell and to death even, and you know that I'd do the same for you. I'd follow you no matter where you were going.''

His eyes snapped back to hers, revealing the tears brimming in them, ''So why are you even fighting me—''

''Because I would follow him too.''

He pushed his lips tight as hers parted.

''I'd follow him anywhere, Theo. Just like I'd follow you, and I know that hurts you. It hurts me too...'' She closed her eyes, ''I always thought it was you, Theo. I always thought you were the one, that you were it at the end of all of this, but...''

Isla drew a hurtful breath, the tears stung her drained cheeks, ''But he's it too. He's the one too, and I won't choose. I refuse to make that choice, but I'll be damned if I let him leave thinking that he's not worth this to me when he's worth everything.''

Theodore looked down at her, staying quiet.

''You're half of me, Theo, but so is he, and I am sorry if that hurts you, but I cannot lie. I won't lie. I am so in love with the both of you that I rather take my own life than choose between you.''

What she spoke cut so deep into him, and it scarred his soul.

He watched her tremble. He saw her tears, her quivering lips as she placed kiss following kiss on the spine of his hand.

This wasn't him. He knew that.

Theodore Nott loved Isla Clarke more than anyone could ever understand, and he couldn't be the one to take her reason of life away from her. He'd die with her.

''Then go,'' He, at last, whispered, and he cupped his hands on each side of her face, ''Go find him.''

Isla blinked up at him, and she looked scared. So fearful that his heart missed a beat.

''Go find him, but then you come back to me.'' He leaned down, and he pressed his lips to her forehead, ''Go, Isla. Just promise that you'll come back for me.''

''I'll always come back for you.'' She pinched her lashes shut, nodding against his chest, ''Always, Theo.''

''I love you,'' He said before he backed up, and he let his fingers linger over her cheek for so a second. Taking her in, memorizing her until he let go, ''I love you, my pretty girl.''

''I love you more,'' She said through a whisper and watched as he stepped aside, allowing her to leave, ''I'll come back, Theo. I promise.''

Then — then Isla ran out.

She didn't stop.

She didn't know where she was headed either.

Her feet ached as she made it to the first place she sought to look, his home, but she stopped, and she lost her breath at the look of it.

There wasn't a Malfoy Manor left. There wasn't anything where his house so beautifully used to stand. Ash. All that was left were piles and piles of ash.

Draco had burnt it down. He'd set it on such flames that it took everything away, but he hadn't done it now. Isla could tell this wasn't new.

The piles of ash had molded together by storms and rain. It wasn't glowing. The place was icing cold.

He'd done this months ago.

Draco had burnt his past to the ground, and he never told her.

That doesn't come as a surprise. Draco holds himself from telling me a lot of things.

Did you ever wonder why I never blamed him for what his family did to mine? When all he did was blame me?

Did that thought ever cross your mind?

His family killed my Fred. It's proven that they did.

My family was only rumored to kill his. It was never proven.

I'm not saying it's not true because Draco is certain, and I believe him when he tells me that it is the horrifying truth, but it must have left you wondering.

I lied about my identity because I was scared.

I was scared in many ways. I was terrified that he'd leave me. I was selfish. I know I was, but I was also scared because he would never have given me the benefit of the doubt.

You might argue me in that — I would too, but deep inside, I think we all know that he wouldn't have.

Draco is stubborn like that.

He'd blame this on me, just like he did when I lied.

We all know Draco. We all know what type of person he was before he fell in love with me, what he did, and how he acted. I was scared of him. I won't lie. I didn't feel safe telling him about my legacy. He was terrifying, and he hurt me when he found out.

He cut his wand so deep into my neck that I was scared I'd bleed out, but I took it. I accepted the rage he so constantly poured over me. I didn't fight him in it — well, most of the time, I didn't.

I didn't make him feel at fault, and if I ever did, it would've never been on purpose. Do you want to know why? I haven't told you about this.

I let Draco treat me horribly. I let him be angry, rude and mean beyond reason. I let him mock me about Cedric's death. I let him walk away from me, and I took him back without a second thought. I let him blame his parent's death on me, all because he needed to.

If you've been with us for a while, you know that Draco isn't one for lectures. He's not the one who stops and listens. He's not the one to make a change because he's asked to.

He needs to make that change himself.

He needed to do what he did. He needed to hurt me to realize that he wasn't that person. He needed to want to be better for himself before he could be better for anyone else.

Draco needed to do all of that on his own.

I let him mock me about Cedric, he saw what he did wrong when he hurt me, and he never did it again.

He lied, and then he discovered that I lied to him too. He tried his best never to lie again. He treated me like an object, someone he could toss around and use as he pleased until he felt the same pain I did when he thought I was the one using him. He treated me better.

He wished me out of his life. He made up reasons and excuses to leave me, knowing that I'd run after. I stopped. He came back, and he didn't leave again.

Draco isn't anyone who can be talked into learning better ways. He needs to learn them because he wants to, so that's what I did. I let him learn.

I won't lie. There have been times where I've tried to teach him, where I've strayed from my morals and tried forcing things upon him, where I've yelled and blamed him. I've made a lot of mistakes, but I learned too. We taught each other a lot. We still do, every day.

I think most of you saw me as weak and selfish when I let him hurt me, but now you know that I let myself be weak so that he could become stronger.

He's not terrifying anymore. I could never be scared of him regardless of what he does.

Getting to know that beautiful boy is one of the greatest things a soul could ever experience, and helping him become the best version of himself is everything, because Draco has a heart like no other.

My heart. Did you know that I call him that?

I never told you. I never told him, but in my head and mind, all I call him is my heart.

He is my heart. He always will be.

Isla looked away from the chaos Draco had caused his childhood home, and she turned around, ready to search the next place she thought he'd run to.

It took her almost two hours. She had to stop several times along the way to catch her breath and wipe her bleeding feet, but not once did she give up.

He never gave up on her.

Draco fought for her in his own ways, and Isla would rather give up life than abandon him.

So she kept going. It was late. The moon stood high and shone brightly, but Draco would always shine brighter to her.

And after what felt like a lifetime, she passed the gates to the place he'd once gotten her.

She'd been here after that night.

She'd cleaned it up, and she'd made it theirs, but she never told him.

It was after he left her at the ministry, when he realized she was a Weasley. Isla spent an entire day there when Theodore disappeared, and she made new furniture come to life with her magic. She painted the walls, and she made it their little secret.

Only theirs.

It was the one place she could think that he'd run to because it meant as much to him as it did to her.

She didn't waste any time, and she ran up to the front door, using the very last of her strength. Isla was exhausted. She'd cried and cursed her whole way there.

People who had seen her must've thought she was absolutely mental for running around in the middle of the night with nothing but a black button-up shirt. Perhaps she was crazy, but there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

Yanking at the door, she realized it was locked, and she didn't bring the keys. Instead, she looked to her left, at the windows pathing across the side of the house.

She sighed before she dragged the sleeve of his shirt over her fist. Without thinking twice about it, she twisted her upper body away from the window, and she hit her elbow against the glass. Again and again, until it shattered all over.

This was a place very special to both of us, even if we ruined it for each other.

You got this for me to protect me from facing my fears. You knew how scared I was of Theodore's lies, even if I never told you. It was like you could feel it, understand it without it ever being spoken.

You have a beautifully haunted mind like that, Draco.

Have you felt it? How his mind works and functions in ways none of us will ever understand.

You never stop being completely consumed by him. Every day, he makes you master something new — if it so is a feeling, a spell, your own mind.

Draco Malfoy was darkness. He was the devil himself, but he fought and conquered his inner demons.

I am so proud of him. I am so proud of the person he became. I am so proud of the person he helps me be.

I wasn't much for anything when I met him. I wanted something stable and safe.

He made me rethink every choice I've ever made, every decision I've ever taken, every thought in my head.

He made me see life in a new way, and he made it exciting. He challenged me to become better, to become everything he knew I could be.

Draco never took me for what I pretended to be. He never made it out to be easier than it was.

His love is raw, bare, and honest.

He saw my mind. He saw me. He saw what I lost and what I mourned, and he never judged me for it. He fell in love with me because of it, and I fell in love with him.

That is something I don't admit very often. Perhaps it's because we've never spoken it. Perhaps I don't have to admit it because he already knows.

I think he knows. I hope he does. I think we both do.

I fell in love with Draco Malfoy, and not once have I regretted doing so. Even if it's the most heartbreaking thing I've ever felt, I will never take it back.

Our love is extraordinary, it's ugly and foul, but it's also so blooming and beautiful. I don't know how else to explain it.

Pain.

Some crave it. Others fear it.

I was never the one for pain until I felt his.

Now, imagine the most addictive pain.

Imagine something so aching and hurtful that it kills you. You're left bleeding out. You're drowning. You're freezing. You're dying.

Then imagine that very pain saving you.

Imagine it filling you with new blood, bringing you up over the same surface you were drowning underneath. Imagine it becoming warm. Imagine it giving you your life back.

Imagine it making you want to live. Imagine it causing you to fight.

That's how it feels, loving him.

It's not always easy and painless.

His love is hard, and it hurts, but I have never felt pain so worth fighting for until I fell in love with him.

You'd know because you've seen it.

Draco Malfoy killed me, and then he brought me back to life.

He's not the one to pull you up and leave you stranded once you're safe. He stays with you, no matter the cost of it. He stayed with me regardless of how hard I caused it to be.

He caught me, and now it's my turn to catch him.

''Draco?'' Isla shouted, stepping over the glass she'd crushed, ''Draco!''

Nothing. Not a sound echoed throughout the mansion, but it didn't take long until she winced and believed she heard footsteps from the upper floor, followed by a loud thud.

''Draco?'' She tried again, sprinting her way across the main floor before she stepped up the stairs, ''Draco, are you—''

Another crash. Something of glass was shattered.

Isla fearfully followed the sound, and she stopped in the doorway to the library with wide eyes. It felt like she was being ripped apart and pieced together at the same time.

She watched him tear the whole of that library apart. He shredded the books. He had thrown the furniture into the bookshelves. He'd taken all his anger and pain out on that room.

At first, Isla didn't know if she dared to speak. He'd most likely kill her if she did, but at the same time, it was all she wanted to do. She wanted to cry and scream and tell him everything.

I've read many of the books you've ripped to pieces. I've admired them and all the different romances they told.

Some, where they promised to love each other as they do in fairytales, the love you read about in the books they existed in. Others started out by promising to ruin each other, which ended up being the best thing that ever happened to them. There was a book with a word as simple as 'really' being spoken, and it meant the entire world to both of them. I even read about two souls counting to three before they drove knives into each other while standing in the dust of a battlefield.

All for love.

But even if I've read thousands, ours would still be my favorite one. All three of us, because they gave me the love you read about in those books. They gave me everything.

You gave me everything, Draco. Let me give some of it back. Let me catch you.

''Draco,'' Isla dared to speak, ''Stop.''

He was about the throw the glass he was holding against the window but stopped the second he caught her soft voice, and he quickly spun around.

''Clarke,'' Draco sounded shocked, ''What the hell are you...''

''Please,'' Isla risked a step into the room, not caring if she hurt her feet more by stepping on what his temper had caused, ''Please, stop.''

He blinked, surprisingly so. It was like he couldn't decide if she was real — if she actually ran after him as he vanished.

Draco didn't think she would.

All he heard as he stepped into their bedroom earlier was how Theodore was sick and how they planned to run.

He thought they would do exactly that. Run, and he hated himself. Draco hated himself more than he hated both of them. He absolutely loathed himself because he thought it was his fault.

He hadn't caught more than the very last sentence she spoke. He didn't know that Isla refused to leave without him. He didn't know that she wished to stay for him and do as she'd promised — just as much as she wanted to run.

Draco thought she had given up on him.

He couldn't blame her, so he blamed himself.

''Draco, please...'' Isla walked closer. Her face twisted in pain as she accidentally stepped on glass, but again, she kept going. Stopping right at his feet, she looked up at him, ''Don't do this.''

His eyes were broad, and his heart was aching.

He watched the cuts on her face from low branches. He saw the bruises on her knees, the blood covering her feet. She'd hurt herself finding him.

''You lied to me.'' That was all he said, and his chest kept heaving.

Isla closed her eyes, trying to tame the falling tears, ''I know. I know I lied to you.''

''You fucking lied to me,'' He frowned. His whole face was blasting in pain as he tried to look at her, but at that moment, he could only see betrayal, ''You lied to me about him.''

Her hands fell to her sides, and she nodded, ''I did.''

''Why?'' Draco's tight jaw loosened, ''Why would you do that to me?''

''It wasn't my secret to tell,'' She whispered, nearly inaudibly, ''He trusted me with this.''

''So did I,'' Draco spoke and looked away. It hurt so much to look at her, yet it was all he wanted to do. He didn't want to spare a minute of not looking at her.

Isla was all he had left.

''I know,'' Her chest would rupture at any minute. She didn't have much more strength to give, ''I know, Draco. I know, and you can hate me for this. It's okay, but don't hate him, please.''

He swallowed thickly, glancing back at her.

''He's sick, Draco. He's sick, and all he asked of me was to keep his secret. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't change his mind. I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I could never do that to him when he kept my secrets safe.''

He looked at her fully now, and he tried to hate her.

Draco tried to dig deep and find hate for that beautiful girl in front of him. He couldn't. He loved her so much. He loved her even more for protecting his best friend. He could never hate her for what she'd done.

''I want to know,'' He said. His voice was low and hard, ''I want to know everything, Clarke.''

Isla nodded, and she reached for his hand, bringing it up to her cheek for him to read her mind. Closing her eyes, she prepared herself to show him everything.

''Not like that,'' He let his touch linger for so a second, just feeling her skin against the tips of his fingers.

Draco had always been weak for her skin, ever since the start. Ever since their beginning. And he hoped with all he had that this wouldn't be their end.

''I want you to tell me,'' He said, ''I need you to be honest with me, Clarke. For once in your goddamn life.''

''Okay...'' She whispered, shooting a look around the room before it was back on him, ''But please, Draco. Don't be mad at him. Be mad at me, or the world, but he doesn't deserve to be blamed for keeping this a secret.''

Draco nodded slowly.

''I wasn't meant to find out either. He didn't want to tell me, but his father let it slip when I met him, so he was forced to tell me about this...'' Isla nervously tugged at the sleeves of the shirt she was wearing, ''He took me to this cellar, down the woods outside his house, and he gave me a letter, and I think there was one for you too because there were two letters in that box.''

Isla drew a shaky breath down her throat, feeling how it clawed its way down.

''His father was sick. He had what they call a blood curse, and he tried to cure himself by torturing Theo. He was four, Draco. He was four when they started, and they tortured him for years.''

Draco frowned, trying to understand what she meant. He'd met Theo's father. He adored that man. He couldn't begin to understand how someone so kind could be capable of such cruel things.

''His father... he transferred the curse onto Theo by giving him his blood, and he healed him. He did that over and over in an attempt to heal himself, but he couldn't. Out of all the things they put Theo through, nothing worked on him. So he kept going for five years.''

Isla fought the tears. It was hard for her to speak the truth about Theo's secret.

''They locked him up in that cellar for most of those years. He was alone, hurt, and tortured. They got him a dog when he tried to fight back, and they killed it right in front of him just to prove a point. He had no one, Draco. He had to go through all of this alone.''

We all did.

All of us went through our pain alone.

Draco lost his parents. Theodore went through hell. I lost my loved ones.

All of us alone.

We found comfort in each other, even if we never spoke our secrets.

We fell in love with the truths we kept hidden, and we saved each other.

It's beautiful, don't you think?

How we manage so much by knowing so little?

Our love is beautiful.

Isla looked up at Draco, noticing how his face turned pale, and his breaths shifted shallower.

''Draco—'' She tried.

He shook his head at her, almost stuttering out his words, ''Keep going. I want to know all of it.''

''They told his family and friends that he died, so they could keep it up without being questioned. What they did to him, Draco...'' Isla sobbed out. She couldn't keep a brave facade anymore, ''It wasn't — It wasn't humane. What both his parents did was... I don't know how he's alive today, but he is...''

Draco had to look away.

''Then he killed them. He saw an opportunity, and he killed them. He gave them the same pills they tried to drug him with, and then he locked them up and burnt their house down with them in it.''

There's something beautiful with this parallel, how they both used fire for salvation. Yet the warmth only mended one of them.

Theodore earned his spark back. He caught on flames himself and never burnt out.

Draco did.

He became someone cold and icing.

The world never treated him fairly, neither did I.

There are a lot of beautiful lines that can be drawn between warmth and cold when it comes to them.

Did you know that Draco is afraid of storms because he considers himself one? He's scared of himself. It took me some time to figure it out, but I did.

Did you ever notice how they shifted just like the seasons of this world? When it was summer, Theodore came and took my breath away. Then fall happened, and he vanished while Draco took place. He swooped in like a chilly autumn breeze.

Theo and I had the warm sunny days, while Draco and I learned how to survive the mightiest snowstorms.

Theodore used wax while Draco played with ice.

It's quite heartbreaking if you think about it.

His jaw gritted at the pain in her voice, and it took him moments before he dared to look back at her.

''So his parents...?'' Draco rasped out, narrowing his eyes at her, ''They were killed? So who are the people in his house?''

''That's the thing, Draco,'' Isla was the one looking away now. She bored her tear-filled eyes at the ground and said, ''That's the reason why he didn't want you to know... The Ministry, they knew about this. His father was an influential man. He had so much power, Draco, and he made them all stay quiet.''

''They did what?'' He nearly growled out, ''What the fuck are you saying, Clarke?''

''That they knew.'' She cleared with a broken tone, ''All of them, they knew, and they left him to die with his parents. They didn't care about him. They tried to fix it afterwards by taking everyone's memory away, but he still knows everything, and so does the Ministry.''

Isla pinched her lashes shut, feeling how her heart was shattering over and over. She'd die if it weren't for the fact that Draco needed her to keep going. She'd be uniting with the same soil Isaac rested underneath, and she wouldn't fight it.

It was too much.

Sometimes I envy the dead.

That's crazy, isn't it?

''Keep going.'' Draco's voice was hard and demanding, but the severity in it softened as he watched her tears fall and hit the ground. Isla felt his hand slowly reach for her, brushing over her jaw to tilt her head back, ''Please, Clarke. Tell me.''

Her lower lip kept quivering, but she managed a weak nod.

''The parents he has now, it's his aunt and uncle,'' Isla admitted, meeting the silver in his eyes, ''They poison themselves every few months to appear as his parents. They are incredible, Draco. All they've done — is for him.''

''So Golden... the reason we got him—''

''Was for Theo, because he lost Isaac.''

Draco could barely comprehend.

He couldn't grasp what he had been kept in the dark about. He knew they didn't keep this from him to be evil. They could never. He knew that.

Still, it felt like the worst type of betrayal. He thought Theodore trusted him. He believed his best friend had enough faith in him to be honest, but he didn't.

Theodore didn't trust Draco with the truth.

Even if Isla stood there, pleading and begging for him to understand that Theodore simply kept this to himself in order to protect Malfoy. He didn't hear it. He didn't believe it.

All he saw was the lies his best friend had fed him since they were children.

Draco knew Theo before he was four years old. Which meant that he was one of the people being wiped off their memory and stocked with lies. Loyalty was everything to Draco, and now it felt like he'd lost that small piece of it that still rested within Theo.

Draco would always love Theodore Nott, and he would forever mourn the childhood that was taken from him, but he didn't trust him anymore. All he felt as he thought about that brown-haired boy was pain.

The friendship they once held so dearly was gone to him.

''Draco,'' Isla wrapped her fingers over his hand, giving him a light squeeze, ''Please, say something.''

He didn't.

Draco didn't speak.

Because no matter how much the truth hurt, he started to understand everything that came along with his lies.

Theodore needed Isla.

If Draco was honest, he'd say that he never understood why Theodore was so connected to her. He didn't understand because he'd seen his friend be with other girls. Never had he fallen in love with them, that he knew, but still — there was something between them Draco failed to realize.

This was it.

Isla saved Theodore.

Her love made him want to live, just like her love made Draco want to live.

She saved Theo just like she'd saved him, and even if he'd never look at Theodore the same again — he loved Isla so much more for it.

This wasn't her fault. No matter how much she tried to take the blame, this wasn't on her. She kept Theo's secret safe, and she kept his own secrets. She tried to please them both, to do everything she could to keep them safe. This would never be her fault.

He understood that now.

''Draco,'' Isla tried again, desperately now, ''Please. I'll do anything. I'll show you everything you want to know. I'll tell you, but please don't ever leave me like that again.''

His gaze fell over her, and his pulse skyrocketed.

Isla Clarke was the most perfect soul he'd ever laid his eyes upon. He hated himself for coming to that conclusion too late, for not realizing it sooner, but she was.

Isla was his everything. All of him.

He'd once again walked out on her without an explanation, without allowing her the benefit of the doubt to actually tell him what they were talking about.

He left her again, but still, there she was. Dressed in nothing but his shirt, with cuts and bruises, doing everything she could to ease his aching heart.

He didn't deserve her.

''I won't.'' He said, and it had her face twist into a confused grimace. She didn't think he'd agree to it, ''I won't leave you again, I promise.''

Isla blinked startlingly as he took a step closer. He wrapped his arms around her. He settled his chin on the top of her head and said, ''I am so fucking sorry, Clarke. I am so fucking sorry for what I've done to you... for what we did to you.''

She arched back, tangling her fingers into his shirt to keep herself steady, ''What?'' She asked, not understanding where this was going, ''Draco, what are you—''

''I hurt you so much, didn't I?'' Draco held her tighter, ''Everything I've done, Clarke... I hurt you so much.''

''I hurt you too,'' She shook her head against him, holding on with all she had, ''I hurt you more. I broke your heart, and I lied, and I stayed with him and I—''

Draco hushed her, pressing his finger to her lips, ''This will never be your fault, Clarke. It's mine. I could've had you, but I let you go every damn time. You didn't. You stood by me. You came back. You took me back no matter how much I hurt you.''

''Draco, what are you—''

''Go,'' He silently whispered against her. She could barely hear him, ''He needs you, Clarke. He needs you, and you need him.''

''No—'' Isla gasped out, pushing her palms against his chest to create distance, ''No. I need you too, Draco. So does he. We need you, and I—''

''He's sick, Clarke. He won't make it without you.''

''I won't make it without you!'' She cried, tears began to stream down her face again, ''You don't get to do this, Draco. You don't get to decide what I need. I need you. I need both of you.''

He had so much pain ghosting across his face, ''Why? You have him. He treats you like you deserve to be treated. He loves you for who you are no matter what you do.''

''And you don't?'' She asked. Her chest was heaving.

''I didn't say that, don't put fucking words in my mouth.'' He corrected, clenching his jaw so tightly, ''I asked you why, because he's perfect for you, Clarke. So why do you need me when you can live your life with him?''

''Stop—'' She trembled, ''Don't do this.''

Isla felt her heart thrashing in her chest, dusting her bones and shattering her soul. She couldn't think. Didn't want to think. Tired. Isla was so tired.

''All I've done is hurt you. I fucked you up, Clarke.'' He kept going, raising his voice, ''I destroyed everything about you. You don't fucking deserve everything I've done. I killed you. So why? Why the fuck do you need me—''

''Because I love you!''

Silence.

There had been silence between them before but never like this.

This stopped time. This ceased the world from spinning.

Isla wiped her tears, looking at him like she'd been drained of life, ''Because I love you, Draco. Because I am so in love with you that it hurts.''

Draco didn't blink. His heart didn't beat.

''Yes! Theodore saved me. He saved me, but you are what makes me want to live, Draco. You are what keeps my heart beating.''

His silence slowly drowned her. It froze her heart to a point where she thought it would shatter.

''And I know you don't believe me because you said it yourself. You hurt me, and I hurt you, but somewhere in that beautiful head of yours, I think you know just how much I love you. How much I need you to survive.''

Draco panted out a faint breath, and with another step closer, he caught her jaws in his hands. He looked down at her with all the sins he'd ever committed. She loved him despite them.

No one had ever loved him as much as she did. He could see it so clearly now. He could feel it through her tears, how heavy they were as they stained his hands.

''I don't care what you say,'' Isla whispered, ''I don't care about what you think you deserve or not because I love you. And for me, you deserve everything. Nothing you say or do will ever stop making me fall for you. I love you. I love you. I love you—''

Isla flinched. He kissed her.

Draco pressed his lips so tightly against hers that it stopped her from breathing. He didn't let go.

He didn't let go until he'd lifted her up from that floor filled with the rage of his emotions.

He didn't let go until he'd reached one of the bedrooms, and he'd laid her down in between the sheets.

He towered her in that bed, ripping her shirt open, dragging her underwear down. His skin shivered as she unbuttoned his own shirt, tugging it off his shoulders and down his arms. He hissed as he felt her unbuckling his pants, getting rid of them along with his boxers.

They didn't waste any time. Not one single breath did they stall until they both moaned out.

He didn't go as rough as he usually did. He didn't fuck her. He loved her. He praised the pain both of them felt, and he kissed every single inch of her skin while doing it.

Isla moaned and whimpered below him, holding onto him with all she had. She scarred him, bruised him, loved him. He loved her more.

It was dark, cold and nothing but the moon glinted through the massive windows of a home that was meant to be theirs.

It was them.

All the darkness. Every chill of the cold. The whole of the moon.

It was theirs.

Them.

It was always them.

She whispered how much she loved him as he carefully rolled his hips against hers. She cried and smiled as she said it. She didn't stop.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

He kissed her deeper for each time she said it. He loved her more. So much more.

He caught her wrist in his hand, and he placed kiss following kiss upon that pink scar. She had never noticed that before. He always kissed it when he was inside her. She never knew.

Isla knew now.

Her body followed as he turned them around, and she kissed his scars. She kissed the marks on his chest, on his arms, and wrists. She kissed them as she loved him. She moved so slowly above him, making them both fall even harder.

He rolled them around again, craving control. He had her splayed out on that bed like a framed piece of art in the world's most exquisite museum.

She wasn't real to him. She was something drawn, something made entirely for him.

He whispered to come, he pleaded to let him feel her. She did, and she made him dive off the same edge he'd just caught her falling from.

He could never let her go now. He could never ease the grip she held on his heart. She owned him from the very start.

Since the first time he'd laid his damned eyes on her years ago. Since he spoke to her the first time. Since the very first time he kissed her.

He should've known. He should've understood what that chaotic girl with absolutely no self-control would come to mean to him.

He didn't think it was possible to fall so hard for her, but he did. He never stopped. He never stopped falling for her.

He loved her so much.

Isla was his whole world, and he would always catch her even if he, himself, crashed while doing it.

Isla combed her shaking fingers through his hair, looking up at him as he withdrew. He was lying on top of her in that bed. The bed he once hoped would be theirs.

The silence came hovering again. His lips parted, and he wanted to speak. He couldn't find the words. It frightened him, thinking about the words he'd craved to tell her for months.

''Don't leave me,'' She quietly begged him, twining her fingers into his hair. Her voice tickled his swollen lips, ''Don't ever leave me, Draco.''

''Choose me,'' He said. Pain. Nothing more than pain, ''Choose me, and I'll stay. Choose me, and I'm yours no matter the damn cost of it.''

Isla closed her eyes as she felt his forehead tip to hers, ''I can't choose, Draco.''

Something crackled within him, broke, and torn to pieces. He felt it through his veins, almost making him nauseous.

Draco laid down beside her instead, pulling her worn body close to his chest, right where his heart was beating.

''Run with me,'' Isla said, tracing the tips of her fingers over his bare chest, ''I know you rather give me up than share me, but it doesn't have to be like that... I don't know how it will be, but we'll figure it out. Just run away with me.''

He stared up at the ceiling, feeling her heated breaths on his skin, her fingers dancing down his stomach. Perhaps he could make it work. Perhaps he could do that.

Perhaps they could run. He wanted them to.

''I'll run with you,'' He said, and he felt her whole body stiffen next to him.

Isla shot up, sitting straight on the mattress with eyes so wide. The tears were back, ''What?''

Bracing himself up on his elbow, he looked right at her, reaching the depth of her soul to find something to hold onto, ''You own my heart, Clarke, and I mean that. You're everything I have left in this hell of a life, and I can't afford to lose you.''

Disbelief played on her face, nearly as if she thought he was lying. She shook her head, fighting the tears, ''Don't. Don't give me hope, Draco. Don't do this to me.''

''I don't want to share you, Clarke. I don't want to have half of you, but I can't lose you either. Not now. Not after what you said to me. You need him, and I need you. I can't lose you, and if sharing you with him is what it takes for me to be with you, then there's no choice to be made.''

It was like fireworks alighted within her, lighting up the darkness with force as she threw herself over him. Her chest pressed to his. Her lips crashed against his, and her heart seemed to beat at the same pace his did.

''Promise?'' She pleaded, placing tiny kisses all over his face, ''Promise you won't let me go.''

Draco had a slight arch in the corner of his lips, and he whispered, ''I promise because never, Clarke. Never could I let you go.''

Isla nestled up against his neck. Her body was heavy over his as he caught her slowing breaths. Calmness. The feeling of peace.

''Sleep,'' He mumbled against her temple, pressing a kiss onto it, ''Sleep, and we'll find Nott in the morning. We'll go to your little village in France, and we'll be together. I promise.''

Isla brushed her nose over his neck, letting go of all her fears, ''I love you,'' She hummed, ''And we'll be together.''

Draco held her a little tighter and kissed her a few more times until she fell asleep on his chest.

But as the beauty of love rises, the downfall also reaches further.

Isla believed Draco when he said that he promised.

She believed him because she loved him. She believed him because of what they'd gone through together.

Draco Malfoy promised Isla Clarke. He took a vow with his words and chained her heart with them.

He looked down at her as she slept. She looked peaceful, like the evil had vanished from the earth, like there wasn't anything similar to evil to begin with.

Oh, how wrong she was. Isla just didn't know it yet.

Was there guilt in his eyes? Was there something he hadn't told her? Something he kept buried so deeply within that she'd be needing her own forces in order to break through to him?

Did he betray her already? Did he fool her with faith as bait and lure her in with the glimmering moon used as poison? Was he lying? Hiding the truth behind his godly facade?

There were, after all, stains of treachery where oath was meant to be shown.

_____

Isla woke up at the sun as it tickled her lashes.

She was smiling already. Her body was warm. She was calm.

They were going to be together. All three of them, and nothing had felt more complete. It would be them now, no matter how they did it.

She didn't have to choose. She didn't have to make the choice their world had forced upon them because they were escaping the cruel ruling that set it in stone.

A choice was always meant to be made, but what Isla didn't realize was that someone had already made it for her.

People say that betrayal comes in different forms, just like pain does.

Some betray out of the love of their hearts, while others do it out of spite.

Have you been betrayed? Have you betrayed someone?

Do you remember how Leo left Mila? How he promised her the world before taking it all away from her?

I never thought Draco would take the world away from me.

When I told you that I was scared of Draco because he could hurt me in a way I'd never come back from, I thought I was safe. Because the one time it'll happen, I will never recover. I'll kneel and die at his doomed feet. He could kill me, but he never did. He never hurt me in a way that killed me, until now.

Reaching a bit to the side, she didn't feel Draco.

Isla sat up straight. Her head snapped across the room, noticing the light crawling across the floor in the warmest of shades. Warm. It was warm. Draco was cold.

Her heart beat a little faster as she flipped the sheets off her, reaching for the shirt he'd tossed on the ground the night before.

Isla looked in the bathroom, underneath the bed, even in the empty closet.

Nothing.

Draco Malfoy wasn't there.

She began to panic now as she spun around, heading for the door.

''Draco?'' She said, yanking at the handle, ''Draco, this isn't funny.''

The door didn't open.

It was locked. It was locked with magic. Sealed with a spell, only a wand could break.

He locked her in, and her heart stopped.

''Draco!'' She slammed her palms against the wood, harder for each time, ''Open the door, Draco!''

In vain, she stepped back, looking over at the windows. She made her way there with stumbling feet, trying to unhook the hinges. It was sealed with the same magic.

It was like I knew all those months ago that you'd be the death of me.

Every time I avoided your mean glare in the classroom, your hurtful words in the corridors, your shouldering and shoves as you took a seat next to me at dinner.

It was like the world knew that you'd be the absolute death of me, Draco Malfoy.

Still, I had faith in you.

I love you.

I loved you.

That is the beautiful difference between you and me.

I've lied to you so many times that my word doesn't speak for much anymore. You barely lied to me, so your word meant everything.

You meant everything.

I will never forgive you for this.

Isla carried the chair, standing in the corner of the room to the window before she threw it against it. It didn't budge. It didn't even pass the coat of magic he'd spelled it with.

''No...'' She whispered to herself as she looked around and caught the tiny piece of paper resting on one of the nightstands, ''No, no, no.''

Isla unfolded it. There were dried-up tears all over.

''Open the door!'' She cried out, scrunching the note in her hand, and she ran towards the door again. She hit her knuckles against it with everything she had left, ''Open the door, Draco!''

He didn't.

''Open the door!''

Blood began to gush from her knuckles. Her hands were soon drenched in the crimson shade as she forced her fists against it. Over and over.

''You promised!'' She sobbed. Her vision became blurry. She couldn't see, ''You promised, Draco! You promised not to leave me!''

She tried to wipe her tears away, but all she did was smear her own blood across her face, mixing it with the fallout of his betrayal.

''You—'' She heaved, her lips turning blue. She couldn't breathe, ''You promised...''

Draco didn't open the door because he wasn't there.

He left.

Draco Malfoy, at last, left Isla to let her be happy with his best friend.

He broke her trust and heart. He broke her, and she would never recover.

He knew that.

He stood outside that mansion and heard her pleading from inside it. He cried. Draco Malfoy never cried. He never let her crawl beneath his skin. He was taught not to let humans fool him. Raised to be cold and emotionless, never give in, and never give up.

She fooled him. He caved for her.

She taught him everything he thought he already knew.

He'd spent that entire night looking at her. He'd looked at her like he would have the day they got married. He looked at her like he knew she'd be the one to carry his children.

He looked at her like she was the only thing he had ever seen — ever wanted to see, like she was the one stain of color in a gray world.

There were tears in his eyes as he traced his fingertips across her face, feeling every element, every detail, every muscle and inch of her skin. He memorized her, every last thing he could, he set in stone in his memory.

He stopped in the doorway on his way out, looking at her, debating his decision.

He didn't lie. He would never let her go.

Isla would stay with him until his very last breath, perhaps beyond that, but he couldn't stay with her.

The memory of her would be the one thing keeping him alive. Her kisses all over his face, her sweet words against his neck, her body close to his in the morning, her breaths on his mouth at night.

They would be the thing that kept him alive.

Draco wished he could say goodbye. He wished he could kiss her and tell her how much he loved her. He wished he could hold her face in his hands and beg for her forgiveness because he'd never forgive himself for what he'd done.

This wasn't planned. He didn't plan to leave her. It was the look in her eyes when he asked her to choose.

It was the way he knew she'd choose him if he pushed her to it.

Isla would choose him, and Theodore would lose his source of life. Draco already knew how it was like to be dying.

He couldn't do that to them.

They deserved to be happy.

I left you once because I was scared that I'd burn you down with me. I came back, ready to burn the world to bits and pieces for you. I never realized back then how wrong I was.

I would never burn the world for you, Clarke. I'd steal it. I'd manipulate it, and I'd make it all yours. Yours for the taking and yours for the ruling.

I will tell you the same thing I told my mother when I let her go. The very reason I wanted to give you her favorite flowers.

Those words were the last words Draco spoke against her mouth as she was asleep.

Pardon me for leaving you, my sweet witch. Because I will never forgive myself for doing so.

Then he pushed his lips to hers. He kissed her, and even if she was asleep, she kissed him back.

Then he left.

Isla slid down that door. Her cries were strangled, and she hit the ground like it was the last thing she'd ever do. She didn't care if she broke her bones and bruised her skin. Nothing mattered to her anymore.

''Please,'' Isla tilted her head, glancing at the door over her shoulder, ''Please don't do this to me.''

A part of her faded, the gravest piece of her heart stilled and would never beat again because he was gone.

Draco Malfoy left her.

It was supposed to be them, all three of them, but that could never happen. Isla was set up for failure. She didn't stand a chance, and no matter how she played it — she lost.

She was always going to lose.

Isla Clarke would die now. She'd fall, and she'd crash, and he wouldn't catch her. He would never catch her again. Draco Malfoy had pulled the trigger, pushed her off that very edge he vowed he'd catch her from.

He lied.

Draco Malfoy lied, and he left her with five words that would become the absolute death of her.

Isla couldn't breathe, and with blood gushing from her hands and wrists, she glanced down at the note in her grip.

His note.

The one thing he left her with, and she sobbed out as she read what he'd written on it.

'I love you, Isla. — Draco.'

The end.