23 | heart on the line

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Notes: 

this chapter is very short, my apologies!

BEAUTIFUL COMMISSIONED ART FROM GWYNVYS AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER!!!!


"Hazel, come over here for a moment," Malfoy called as he poked his head into the training room, his chin nodding towards her. She stood with Red and Blue, speaking in hushed tones about what had happened the previous night, and in response to his attention while she was discussing him, her cheeks took on a rosy hue. She sincerely hoped he hadn't overheard their conversation.

In the few hours she'd managed to sleep, her anger had not dissipated, her hurt still as visceral as the moment he had remained silent while she waited for him to deny that he no longer wanted to train her. She did not want to go to him, did not want to have any sort of conversation with him. All she really wanted was to put him out of her mind and move on.

She glanced at her friends for some kind of input on what she should do, but they both shrugged. "Hazel," Malfoy said again, and the sound of her name from his lips was the kind of magnetic attraction she could not resist. Dutifully she broke off from the other soldiers and walked into the hallway to find him leaning against the wall, ankles and arms crossed.

She said nothing. Even looking at him had her body on fire with emotion. Talking was out of the question.

"How are you?" he asked, catching her off guard. She hadn't the time to wonder at what he wanted to discuss with her, but even if she had, she wouldn't have expected the concern he appeared to have for her. She could not make her vocal cords work, so she shrugged.

She moved to the opposite wall, needing something to ground herself. It also served the merciful purpose of putting more distance between them. Her eyes fell to her shoes, though she could feel his gaze on her face, and her cheeks burned even hotter at the attention.

What she hated the most about their dynamic was the power imbalance. The way he was studying her while she avoided meeting his eyes made her feel like a young child enduring an interrogation from a strict parent over missing cookies from the cookie jar. It seemed that, no matter what she did, she always fell into the weaker role. She didn't necessarily know that this was how he viewed them too, but it was exhausting to constantly feel that she was being looked down upon.

"About last night—"

"I'd rather not discuss it," she interrupted, surprising herself with how suddenly the words burst from her lips. She still did not look up.

A beat passed. Her palms felt itchy. "I think we should."

"It takes two people to have a conversation, Malfoy," she retorted, her anger from their previous interaction resurfacing. "If I don't want to, then we won't." There was a sense of finality to her statement, and, at last, she pulled her gaze from her shoes to his face, her eyes fiery with feeling.

In astonishment, she watched as a flush took over his features. He was clearly used to being the one with authority amongst the two of them. "Is that it, then?"

Her heartbeat was quick, her skin hot with adrenaline. "What part?" she asked before she could stop herself. Her question implied that there was more than just the training that connected them. That there was something beyond professionalism. He didn't correct her.

"You don't want me to train you anymore?"

Everything in her begged her to say no, that she wanted to continue training with him, that she'd take any spare moment with him that she could get. It was almost difficult to force the words out. To close the door she so badly wanted to throw open and soar through regardless of what awaited her on the other side. "Yes." A jolt ran through her body with the single syllable but she tried not to let it show on her face.

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