Summary: The truth is if you slit my throat I would look back at you with my last gasping breath and apologize for bleeding on your shirt.
Her hands clutched desperately at his shirt. The pliant fingers smearing her blood as it starts to cake under her bitten nails. He continues to stare, his body slack over hers, as if he were on the verge of death himself.
But it was the opposite. Her dimming eyes and the cease of thrashing from her was evidence on who had kissed death tonight. Who would leave with the Reaper and pat the Grim as if he were merely a loyal house pet as she looked over her shoulder at the living world.
Her grunts were getting raspier and her chapped lips mouthed something he could not determine. And honestly he begged not to know. Not when he looked at how his arm jutted out painfully still with that rusting knife.
A knife which dripped crimson blood and settled itself in her cheeks, nose and flowed down into that very mouth that gave it once oxygen so it could live. Run past her veins so she would smile shyly at him, walking down the corridors not caring at all about House rivalries.
Now, as it parted from her body, it only gave her ghastly appearance a bit of color that matched the hair that hung limply at her side.
Hair he remembered on various afternoons admiring as the wind played with the tendrils. And an auburn color would glare off the surface when the sun decided to bestow her with its presence. He would watch her intensely from the castle and sometimes his hands would grasp the air and twirl around. Imagining the feel of her red locks over his craving fingers.
Curiously his arm let go of the weapon that had made a mark on the hand that gripped it so. Shakily he caressed a side of her face and watched his own life spill so carefully with her dying own.
His blunt nails scratched her unblemished face and continued to do so as they reached her throat. A pulse beat lowly there, she was hanging on a wire. Defying the laws of death.
But then again that shouldn't have surprised him. She had defied a lot of things recently and this was just another to mark up on her resume. She was prolonging her death when it should have been quick and painless for both.
He chose this method precisely for that cause and here she was fucking it up.
Why won't you just die? He whispered at her ear. She shivered and her eyes stared defiantly at him.
I already am, she spit out.
His fist pounded against her stomach, she barely flinched. Tears emigrated out of him and he swore that had they not fallen and marked clear tracks against the blood pouring out and already drawn over her, that he cried red.
His body shuddered and his torn cloak draped itself over them. The sounds of cries for salvation from their peers echoed but sounded so distant when she started convulsing. Her eyes were grim and hard, not at all like they use to be back then. Back when he didn't betray her.
Her voice somehow was perfectly clear even in the middle of a battle. Even through the clashing of spells and nauseating odors of decaying bodies. Blood had to be thicker, didn't it Draco?
His chest heaved in and out as dry sobs ripped themselves out of his throat. His hands were furiously clawing at the slit he caused. A gash that was done so poorly that she still drew breath. If only she would continue to.
If only... he could have parted from his father.
But he knew the notion was impossible. By the time she came waltzing with that coy smile he was far too gone. He was already deep in his well and her face was a hopeful light at the end of the tunnel. One he could never reach but could only wish he did.
I should have never believed in you.
Her hand squeezed his with her last bit of strength. He only clutched back, desperately as she had a while ago.
I never did.
A/N: There it is, my first D/G. I got this weird image in my head when I did this icon meme on my LJ and got a real... odd one. What it said is the summary so no, I didn't really come up with that but hey, that was the premise. Anyway I hope I don't muck things up since I wrote this quickly and it's unbeta'd.