Mature content ahead.

_____

''He should be here any minute now, shouldn't he?'' Her mother asked, standing by the stove as she stirred a pot, ''If he's not late, of course. The weather isn't the best.''

''I don't know,'' Isla was pacing back and forth, nervous for the brunets arrival, ''He's never late. Perhaps he changed his mind?''

She hadn't seen him for over a week, nearly two. Not since the school was excused for Christmas break and she traveled home.

Her mother scoffed, putting her spoon down as she turned to face her daughter, ''Why would you think that? From what you've told me, he seems like a sweet boy, Isla,'' Her tone light, hopeful, ''What is it that I always tell you? Don't judge a book—''

''Don't judge a book by its cover,'' Isla muttered, still pacing across the kitchen floor, ''I know, but what if he—''

The doorbell hewed her off, and she faltered completely in her tracks. Standing almost petrified now, her eyes flickered to level her mother's.

''Well,'' Her mother jeered, waving her hand towards the hallway, ''Don't just stand there, go and open it.''

Walking hesitantly to the door, she froze as her hand closed around the knob, and it wasn't until it rang again, her wrist twisted, and she shoved it wide.

Her heart pounded, the beat of it swelling in her ears as she watched the boy standing with a small layer of snowflakes covering his messy curls.

''Hi, you,'' Theodore smiled warmly.

Isla felt a curl as it arched on her lips, and she took a step out in the cold, ''Hi, you.''

His arms bent out in the air, and he brought her into a hug, wrapping his limbs around the nervous girl. She melted right into it.

She tried not to. She tried to distance herself even if she was pressed against him — but she couldn't. She couldn't possibly space herself from him.

There was something about him. Even if they claimed to be nothing more than friends, Isla was so dependent on him. Like her happiness and well-being rested in his hands.

''Theodore!'' Her mother greeted from behind them, making them jump apart as Isla stepped aside, creating room for her mother to welcome the Slytherin into their home, ''You made it here safe and sound, I see.''

Theo scanned her mother from head to toe before he reached his hand out, ''Mrs. Clarke,'' He issued, politely, ''And I did indeed.''

Her mother didn't hesitate with wrapping her arms around the boy, hugging him as he rose a brow towards the girl standing beside them.

Isla smiled shyly as she shook her head, ''Mom, that's enough, I think he gets it,'' She huffed out in half a chuckle.

Her mother's hands stayed on the boy as she leaned back, smiling graciously at him, ''You look like your father,'' She held the curve on her lips, ''How are your parents, alright and well I hope?''

Shuddering slightly by the icing weather, ''They are,'' He mumbled, sounding a bit displeased with the question, ''They wanted me to wish you a Merry Christmas.''

''Are they celebrating alone this year? No Christmas party?'' She asked, crossing her arms over her apron, ''They always used to throw such beautiful gatherings!''

''Mother—'' Isla pushed her lips into a firm line, shaking her head at the nosiness the lady brought, ''Perhaps we should invite him inside before he freezes to death?''

''Oh!'' Her mother chuckled, stepping inside her house, ''You'll have to excuse me, Theodore. I talk too much for my own good sometimes, but here — welcome.''

''Thank you, Mrs. Clarke,'' Theodore hushed, gesturing with his hand for Isla to walk ahead of him, and as she did, she shivered by his hand, landing on her lower back.

Her body stiffened, and she'd be lying if she didn't say she'd missed his touch upon her.

''Isla, take his coat and his bag, will you? You can bring it up to your room. We put up a bed for you in there!'' Her mother urgently spoke, striding towards the kitchen, ''I forgot the stove!''

As her mother disappeared out of sight, Isla turned to the brunet, immediately drowning in the captivating eyes he carried.

''You alright there?'' Theo smirked, reaching his hand in between them, and he tucked a curl behind her ear, ''You seem a bit... tense.''

''I do?'' She gasped, nervously as she let her head tilt into his palm, ''I'm sorry—''

''Don't be,'' He was quick to stop her apology, looking at her so softly that she could rupture on sight, ''I missed you, pretty girl.''

Blushing, Isla looked away, trying to hide the smile mounting her, ''And what if I missed you more?''

''Wouldn't be possible,'' He grinned, rolling his tongue across his bottom lip, ''But if you say so, Clarke. I'm pretty great if I'd say it myself, so I couldn't blame you for doing so.''

Dryly rolling her eyes, she raised her brows, tracing her arms up towards him, and he bent down over her, ''Oh?'' She mocked, ''You thought I'd hug you again?''

Theodore scowled, sighing loudly as she gripped his coat, forcing him around to drag it off his strained shoulders, ''Wishing for too much, are we now?'' Isla taunted.

''Well...'' Theodore let the fabric slip off his arms, ''It's Christmas after all, isn't it?''

Walking into the closet with his coat, she nodded towards the stairs, ''Well...Hurry up, pretty boy,'' Biting down her lower lip as she snatched his bag from his hands, ''We don't have all day, do we?''

Restricted in his movements, he stared at her wide-eyed to what she said, but Isla scoffed playfully and marched past him.

''Fuck—'' Theodore groaned out, gripping her waist at the first step of the stairs, pressing his chest against her spine, ''The way you speak to me, Clarke.''

Smiling to herself, Isla peered over her shoulder, ''What now, pretty boy—''

He gulped, swallowing the feeling her words brought, and he cocked his head, ''That's it—'' He mumbled, throaty as he hunched, grabbing her thighs, and he lifted her up, ''That's enough from you, don't you think?''

Isla squealed out, bursting out in laughter as he carried her up the stairs, ''Theodore, please—''

''What did I say about begging me, Clarke?'' He grunted, looking around to see if he'd be able to figure out which of all rooms on the upper floor belonged to the girl in his arms, ''You'll beg me alright, but not yet—''

Pointing towards a pearly painted door, she didn't believe her cheeks could grow redder, ''It's that one—''

He didn't waste a heartbeat as he walked in, booting it open and shoving it shut with his foot. His sight flickering, getting used to the dimmed lights. Theo caught into the two beds, not hesitating as he threw her down onto one of them.

Her spine bounced off the mattress as he kneeled in between her legs, flinging his bag across the room, ''Not so cocky anymore, are we?'' He grumbled, towering over her, ''You have quite the attitude, Clarke.''

''I do?'' Her eyes rolled amusingly. He was so close to her now, so near that she felt the minty breath he owned as it fanned her lips, ''Didn't notice—''

''Yeah?'' Theo's breaths shifted heavier, looking down at her from above, ''Not only pretty, but a liar too, I see....''

Clinging her arms around his neck, she pulled him down onto her completely, ''You're the pretty one,'' She breathed. Her lashes battling the thickening tension filling the room, ''Pretty boy—''

Growling within the flesh of his mouth, he pressed his body to hers, ''It's hard being your friend right now, Clarke,'' Licking his lip, his eyes darted down to watch her bite down onto hers, ''Don't do this to me—''

''What?'' Arching her spine and spreading her legs wider for him, ''What am I doing? Friends can talk to each other, right?''

''I don't want to talk to you, Clarke....'' His head dipped, rasping into her ear instead, ''I want to do everything but talking to you.''

He was speaking so slowly that it made her shudder, her nails clawing at his shoulders, ''What if I want to talk—'' She whined out, feeling as he put pressure upon his hips, causing her to feel his throbbing erection through his pants, ''Talk to me,''

Theodore tucked his arms around her spine, turning them around over her covers. She was straddling him on the edge of the bed, ''Talk to me, Theo—''

His nose brushing at where her pulse was beating, ''You want me to talk to you, yeah?'' He pushed his lips against her skin, gently scratching his teeth across it, ''How do you want me to talk to you, Clarke?''

Both of them going insane for another, in the missing of not touching each other for weeks. Not once had she held him this close since the night in the library.

Her hips bucked against his, breathing out heavily at the friction, ''I don't know—'' Her head tipped back, allowing him to caress her throat as he pleased, ''Just talk to me, please—''

One of his hands fisted into her hair, while the other sheeted her hip, helping her bucking against him, ''I need to know what you want first, Clarke....'' He breathed against her neck, ''As friends, of course.''

''As friends,'' She repeated after him, curling her fingers into his messy curls, ''I want you,'' Isla hummed, quietly, ''I want you—''

''Mhm?'' He nibbled on her earlobe, breathing heavily into her ear, ''You want me? As a friend, yeah?''

''Please—'' Her hips rolling, her clothed core ached to a point where it turned hard to keep the air in her lungs steady, ''Theo, please—''

His hands sneaking underneath the skirt of her dress, still making sure that it covered her as he dug his fingers into her waist. It made her whimper, arching her neck and her lips caught his.

''Friends—'' He mumbled into her mouth, rocking her above him, ''Do you know how difficult it will be for me to be your friend when I am this—'' He lowered her even more over his pants, ''This fucking hard for you already?''

''Let me take care of you then....'' She smirked, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip, and without warning, Isla pushed her palms into his chest, making his spine collide with the mattress.

Bending over him, her fingers fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them as she pressed her lips into the bare skin, kissing her way down his chest for every stud she unhooked.

Theodore groaned out silently, his hands tangled into her hair. She was sucking on his chest, grinding herself over his clothed erection.

It was the way he was gripping her hips, assisting her in pleasing herself on top of him, that made her lose it. Isla couldn't take it.

She looked up at him, sweetly beneath her lashes, and she rose a brow, gesturing for his belt, and a nod tipped his head, consenting for her to rip it open.

''Pretty girl,'' His hand stayed on her jaw for half a second, taking her in, ''Such a pretty fucking girl.''

The gaze of the brim of her dress slipped down and the cleavage he had perfect sight of — he spiraled just as untamed as her, and the instant Theodore meant to flip them around again, to take full control of her.

''Mom says the dinner is ready—''

Isla flew off him. Throwing herself forward and landing on the floor next to her bed as she buried her head in between her knees.

Theodore was left on the bed. His hair was tousled by her fingers tugging at it. His shirt unbuttoned, and his heaving chest was on full display for the girl standing in the doorway.

Grasping at a pillow, he slammed it over himself, covering up their deeds and his unbuckled belt.

''What are you doing?'' Lucy asked, tilting her head and frowning at the way her sister was hiding behind the bed, ''Isla, why are you hiding?''

Theodore tried not to laugh, clearing his throat as he stayed hidden under the pillow. He shot a nervous stare over his shoulder, glaring down at Isla, but she just shook her head.

The boy knitted his brows, bending forward, ''I'm Theodore, by the way—'' Stretching his hand over to the girl who stared at it with a confused grimace. Withdrawing again at the lack of Lucy's actions, he felt like he could burst out in laughter at any minute, ''Or not....''

''We'll be downstairs in a minute, Lucy,'' Isla choked out, ''Help mom set the table, and I'll do the dishes tonight.''

''Really?'' She brightened, backing away.

Isla sighed, still stashed behind the bed, ''Yes, please, just go downstairs!''

Her sister didn't waste a second, and she vanished from in front of them quickly.

''Fucking hell, Clarke. You could've told me that there are kids in the house,'' Theodore stood up, facing her from across the room, ''I didn't know—''

''You know I have a sister,'' Isla muttered, bothered, ''Why wouldn't she be home for Christmas?''

''Well,'' He shook his head, throwing his arms out, ''She wasn't at the door. I didn't expect her to be home.''

''She's shy—'' Isla forced herself off the floor, crawling up on the bed again and kneeling at the edge of it.

Taking a step up to her, he was so close again. Noticing how much the incident troubled her, Theo brushed her hair from her shoulders, and he dipped his head, catching her lips in a soft kiss.

''Well, perhaps we shouldn't be doing that then,'' He mumbled, feeling how her fingers grasped at his chest, pulling him into her, ''Maybe friends aren't meant to do this.''

''Perhaps they're not,'' Isla leaned back, buttoning his shirt, ''But we'll never be friends, will we?''

Quirking a brow, he looked surprised at the girl as she smiled, fixing his collar, ''I don't think we will.''

Her eyes falling over him, blushing slightly at the way he was looking at her, ''Perhaps it's for the better....'' She stepped to the floor, still craving to be near him, ''Us not being friends.''

Theodore clicked his tongue, grinning wickedly at her, ''Perhaps it is.''

_____

''No, we're not opening anything until tomorrow,'' Her mother beamed from the kitchen, and Isla watched her sister's eyes glint in the excitement by the presents underneath the tree.

Theodore smiled, seated on the couch with Isla next to him, his arm rested on the backrest of the sofa, close to the girl, ''What is she getting?''

Isla merely rolled her eyes, annoyed with the boy as he'd spent the whole dinner teasing her. Placing comments that caused her cheeks to burn, and his hand constantly brushed against her thighs.

''Wouldn't you like to know?'' She rose a brow, mockingly, ''I'll tell you, if you say what you got for me.''

His tongue grazed over his bottom lip, pleased with her frustrating self, ''Who said I got you anything?''

Scowling as she shouldered him to the side, Isla laughed out provokingly, ''You'll be sleeping on the floor tonight then.''

''I'm joking,'' Theo raised his hands in the air, chuckling darkly at her, lowering his voice, not for her sister to hear, ''I have something... pleasing for you, Clarke.''

Staring back at him wide-eyed, Isla gulped, ''And what could that be—''

''Mom, what does getting something pleasing mean?''

Isla, yet again, froze completely.

''What do you mean?'' Her mother stuck her head out the kitchen door, looking confusingly at the three of them.

''Theodore said he got Isla something pleasing for Christmas—''

''Mom got you a broomstick!'' Isla blurted out, pinching her eyes shut as her breaths shifted unsteadily. The shame grew red upon her cheeks.

''Isla!'' Her mother yelled, disappointingly at her daughter, ''You can't just tell her— wait, what did you say, Lucy?''

Theodore burst out in laugher, spreading his legs wide upon the sofa. He placed his elbows on his knees and strived to hush himself.

''Theodore said—''

''And your own tv!'' Isla spoke louder than her sister again, pushing herself up from the furniture to face the girl, ''Now, do you want me to tell mom what you got her or—''

''Isla!''

Theodore couldn't stop laughing, covering his face with his hands as tears prickled in his eyes at the situation.

''No!'' Lucy gulped, startled at the way her sister was acting. Frightened with Isla's death stare, ''Theodore didn't say anything.''

"Isla, it seems like we need to have a conversation."

"Mom—"

''I'm sorry....'' Lucy gazed at Theo as he looked back at her, ''They're not always like this.''

It simply made it harder for the brunet to keep himself from rupturing.

''Mhm...'' The lady muttered, eyeing both of her daughters down before her sight fixed on Isla, ''There's a reason why I put another bed in your room, Isla.''

''Mom!'' Isla shook her head, nearly crumbling within the coat of her own skin, but her mother merely raised a brow.

''Theodore,'' Her mother spoke, kindly and he peered over his shoulder, drying the tears he held from laughing, ''I can tell you fancy my daughter, and I can't blame you. She's a lovely girl. But there will be—''

''Mom, stop it!''

He had to push his lips together, hearing the desperate tone Isla gave out as she begged her mother for mercy.

''—But there will be no funny business underneath my roof while you're staying here. If you two are sleeping in the same room, I want you to behave, both of you. Or I'll set up the bed down here—''

Lucy earned Theodore's attention, shaking her head at the way her family was behaving, and she leaned forward, ''You know what I said before? I take it back. They are always like this.''

''Yeah?'' Theodore scratched his jaw, defusing the tension, ''Your sister yells a lot, doesn't she?''

''Totally!'' Lucy nodded, rapidly and the bickering between her mother and sister continued in the background, ''But mom yells a lot too... Does Isla yell at you?''

Theodore knitted his brows, clenching his teeth not to laugh again, ''She does, quite a lot actually, but only when it suits her, of course. She never lets me yell at her.''

Humming, her sister bowed her head, agreeing to what Theo said, before she looked up, awkwardly at the two fighting family members, ''Do you yell at her?'' Lucy scrunched her nose, crossing her arms, ''At my sister, I mean?''

Shocked, he coughed out, nervously, ''I don't— or I try not to, but—''

Lucy stepped even nearer, shooting a discreet look at her mother and then back at the brunet, ''If you get the chance, yell at her. She's crazy that one, Isla, can be... Isla."

''Yeah, yeah,'' Theodore pitched in, ''I know exactly what you're talking about.''

''Lucy!'' Isla interrupted them, ''Can you stop talking badly about me when I'm right here—''

''Isla, don't even try changing the subject. You're young, and I understand that, but sexual intercourse for two young people like yourselves can be—''

''Mom, for God's sake!'' Isla was shouting now, her hands combed through her hair in defeat as she strode closer to Theodore, snatching his wrist in her hand and tugging him to stand up next to her, ''That's enough, please—''

She dragged the boy with her towards the stairs as he turned around, smiling politely at her mother, ''I promise, Mrs. Clarke. No funny business—''

Isla spun around rapidly as she slapped his arm, glaring at him, ''Shut up—''

''Language, Isla!'' Her mother tried not to smile at the way she was panicking, ''And thank you, Theodore. It seems like one of you have some manners—''

''Oh my god,'' Isla sighed, hauling at Theodore's arm as she began to step up the stairs, ''Goodnight, mother!''

''Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Clarke—'' Theodore tried speaking as he was being pulled away, ''It was lovely just like your daughter—''

''Don't you dare,'' Isla gritted, but the boy just laughed at her. Marching across the upstairs hallway and she shoved the boy into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.

_____

Lying in her own bed, Isla huffed out, quietly not to awake the boy in the bed next to hers.

It was a good day, she believed. Her mother adored the brunet, and so did her sister — that wasn't a common thing. Lucy was always truly suspicious with people, but not with him. She let him in without a second thought.

Perhaps this was what she wanted. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to be — her and Theodore being more than friends.

She wasn't wrong. They could never be just friends. Never could she have only that with him. She didn't want to.

Isla wanted more. She craved more of him — she always had. More than friends, more than sleeping together, that wasn't a thing she'd ever question.

She was in love with him, indeed, and it pained her to a level where she didn't know how to feel because he couldn't be with her.

Theodore wanted her, and she wanted him, but she couldn't go there. It was forbidden, restricted. He wasn't allowed to be with her. His family wished for someone with the purity of blood she didn't own.

Her mother was a muggle, and it made her not suitable for the boy, which left her torn in her mind and confused beyond explanation because there was someone else too.

Isla had Draco.

Not anymore — he made that clear before she left. He avoided her the rest of that week until she traveled back home.

Draco slept with someone else even when he'd stalled that with her, all because he wasn't ready — yet that stubborn, vile boy always seemed to be ready for everyone else but her.

It was never her to him.

Isla wasn't upset with the fact that he'd slept with someone else, that he'd given the part he promised her — to someone else. Malfoy was free to do as he pleased. He didn't belong to anyone, but it was the way he'd handled it all.

How he begged her to wait, how he'd treated her, how he'd been honest only to rob her of everything she felt like she'd been building with him.

And it hurt. It truly did.

There was always something special about Malfoy to her. He was cruel and mean. He spoke unforgivable things, and he made her crumble in the uncertain sphere she was already a prisoner within. He wasn't worthy of her, but she wasn't worthy of him either.

Draco made her question everything. He was vicious indeed, but he was also kind. Nothing compared to the soft moments he granted her, even if they were rare — he made her feel things everyone else failed to do.

That was the hard part. That both of them knew they could fit so well together, yet neither had the courage to take a step towards it.

So Isla let it be.

Not being angry, not holding it against him, nothing but letting it pour off her as she turned in her sheets. She tucked her hand underneath her pillow.

''Are you awake?'' She whispered, biting down her lower lip at the shame she felt wavering inside by the possibility of him actually sleeping.

''Well...'' Theodore muttered, amusement pitched through his tone, ''I am now.''

Her face sunk into the soft material of her pillow and her knees dragged up to her chest, ''I'm sorry—'' The embarrassment burnt through her, ''Go back to sleep. I didn't mean—''

''What?'' He rasped, making her shiver as his low voice filled the darkened room, ''What didn't you mean to do, Clarke?''

''Wake you...'' Isla whispered, propping herself up on one elbow to watch his firm body through the dimmed moonlight, ''I thought you were awake, I'm sorry.''

''You and your damn apologies, Clarke,'' He said, unpleased with the way Isla continuously excused herself, ''It needs to stop.''

''Why—''

''Because you don't have anything to apologize for. I'm literally sleeping in your room, of course, you're allowed to ask me if I'm asleep,'' He stated, catching how she was moving in her own bed, ''Why? Did you have a nightmare or something?''

''I didn't,'' Her note low, she hummed, ''Are you okay? You didn't say goodnight—''

''You want me to say goodnight, Clarke?'' Theo pushed his palms into the mattress, flinging his legs across the edge of the bed as he sat up straight, ''I always forget saying goodnight.''

''Well,'' She smirked to herself, ''With me — you don't.''

''Yeah?'' Theo chuckled out, half whispering, and he stood tall, taking slow steps up to her bed, ''Well, if I can't smoke at your house — that deal is off.''

Theodore stood in front of her now, his muscles flexed in the moonlight, and her cheeks blushed because of it. She looked away quickly.

''Move over then—'' He mumbled, grabbing the edge of her cover as she tipped her head to the side, ''What?''

''Oh?'' Isla smiled mockingly, ''You thought I wanted you to sleep in my bed?''

Rolling his eyes, Theo reached his arms up, angling his exposed body perfectly as he pretended to stretch. Isla's lips parted.

''What was that?'' Sucking the inside of his cheek in, he looked down at her, his massive body on display for her, ''You want me to go back to my own bed then? Well, if you insist, Clarke—''

''No—'' Isla breathed, her fingers wrapping around his, ''I don't want that.''

''Then don't be a brat,'' He grinned, tauntingly at her, nodding his head as she shoved herself back over the bed, giving him space to sneak down next to her, ''There you go....''

Theo turned to face her, his nose nearly brushing along with hers, ''Hi you,'' His eyes flickered, taking in every detail she carried.

''Hi, you,'' Isla whispered, her hand moving as she let the tips of her fingers brush a curl away from his brows, ''I missed you.''

''You always seem to miss me, but you never do anything about it,'' Theodore scowled, playfully as her eyes rolled, ''Hey, hey, eyes on me, pretty girl,'' He caught her jaw in his palm, ''I want to see that pretty face of yours.''

Feeling as his pulse quickened the very second he felt her bare skin smoothly stroke against his underneath the cover, Theodore gulped. He didn't realize she wasn't wearing more than her underwear.

''Clarke—'' He took a breath, trying to strain himself from going to the place he shouldn't. He couldn't be with her. Theodore knew that. ''Perhaps I should sleep alone.''

She could feel his panting upon her as she curled her lips, shyly, ''Perhaps you should.''

Propping himself up on his elbow, he leaned over her. His body was so close to hers.

''Yeah...'' He felt her fingers moving slowly up his back, drawing tiny things on his muscles, ''I think I should—''

Isla's lips brushed against his, and she knew that if she moved just an inch — she'd be kissing him, ''Then go. If you don't want to sleep in the same bed as me, go back to the other one.''

''It's not the sleeping part I'm concerned about, Clarke,'' His chest pressured upon hers, and he could feel how she nervously shook underneath him, ''I'm not planning on falling asleep with you in this bed....''

Isla blinked quickly.

''We can't be doing this,'' Theodore tried so hard to hold back, to not give in to the mesmerizing girl, watching as her thick strands framed her face, her lashes battled. He looked away, ''I won't—''

''Why?'' Isla took his sharpened jaws in her palms, angling his face to look at her again, ''Why can't you let me have you like this? I want you, Theo—''

''Because I can't stay away,'' He said, lowly, ''If I feel you around me again, Clarke — if I get to fuck you again, I can't stay away. I can't hold myself from wanting you.''

''Then don't—'' She whimpered, his hand tensing around her waist, large as it was, it nearly made her squirm, ''Don't stay away. Don't fight me, Theo. Be with me—''

The tension thickened, the air crowded in lust.

''I can't—'' He was speaking into her mouth, drowning at her way of shaping words, ''I can't have you....''

''Why?'' She frowned, kissing his upper lip softly, ''If I want you and you want me, why can't we have each other? No one has to know, Theo. It can be our secret. Just let me be with you—''

''I don't care about anyone finding out anymore, Clarke. It's not about that—'' He didn't, this wasn't about his family anymore, ''I can't be with you, because—''

He let his lips move with hers, kissing her gently as she balled her fists in his hair, ''Because?'' She whined out, and he leveled on top of her even more.

''I've tried, Clarke. I have tried staying away, giving you to him, letting you be with someone else than me, but I come back to you, every damn time, I can't stay away because—''

She shifted a bit, allowing him to sink in between her thighs, ''Because...?''

It turned quiet for so a second.

''Because I am so damn in love with you.''

Electricity jolted through her, shooting within her every nerve as her spine curved, and she caved into him entirely.

''Theo—'' Isla sought to speak, but his lips shut her up, ''I'm in—''

''Don't,'' He growled, his teeth sunk into her bottom lip, ''Don't say anything.''

Instead, he reached for his wand, muttering 'muffliato' below his breath.

Theodore didn't say more than that. He simply kissed her fiercely. His body craving hers as he nudged her head back, tracing his touch down her throat.

His body weighted on top of hers as she wrapped her thighs around him, bringing him closer in the most desperate way.

Isla was aching for him. Her body, her heart, her soul. Her whole being. Her figure starved to feel him close, to have him inside her and rob her of the air in her lungs.

''Please,'' She breathed, her nails clawing down his back as his clothed dick throbbed against her tender core, begging him to ease the friction, ''I need you—''

''Yeah?'' His lips moving up across her chest, wet kisses settled over the faded marks Draco had left upon her, ''What do you need, Clarke? You need my mouth or my dick?''

''I don't—'' She heaved, her lips colliding with his as he kissed her. Theodore's hands traveled wildly over her exposed body, ''You, I just need you—please.''

His fingers dipping further down, teasing at the hem of her underwear for a minute as she gasped. Breathing the same air as she rolled her hips against him, craving to feel him.

''Pretty girl...'' Theodore kneeled back, leaving her breathless on the mattress as he grabbed her roughly by her thighs, yanking her body closer to his, ''Let me give it all to you—''

He settled her knees over his shoulders, arching his back to in between her legs, and he touched her right where she needed him to be, his finger taunting her soaked panties, ''Fuck, you're so fucking wet already—''

''Please—'' She was squirming for him to do something now, to stop stalling and please her in all the ways she knew he could, ''Please, move —fuck— do something,''

Theodore didn't waste a second. He hooked his fingers around the brim of her underwear, tearing them apart as she whined out, ''Fuck, so sweet. Such a pretty cunt. I can't fucking wait to be inside you—''

''Please,'' Not being able to control herself, her hands flew to his head, tangling her fingers into his messy strands, ''I need it, please—''

Brushing his nose over her inner thigh, he grunted, and when she least expected it, he let his lips melt with her cunt.

''Yes, don't stop—'' Isla pleaded, her voice breathy, ''Yes, yes, yes—''

Even if he just got started, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself for long. Theo did things to her she couldn't explain.

His mouth moved at a punishing pace, licking and sucking on her clit like he couldn't get enough of her. Grunting from time to time at the way she was tightening her thighs around him.

''There you are,'' He mumbled at the muffled sounds of her moans as they packed the room, ''My pretty girl—fuck—''

''Oh my—'' She nearly screamed at his fingers digging into her waist, severely to make her move with his deeds. Licking a flat stripe up her cunt, Theodore groaned at the taste of her.

He'd missed tasting her.

He'd missed feeling her body as she shook violently beneath him, and he thirsted to feel her just like this.

Her arousal on his tongue as her fingers tugged at his locks, bucking her hips up to meet his mouth as he latched onto her.

Pleasuring her to a point where her breaths stuck in the back of her throat by the moans, she gasped out, heaving for air to collect herself.

''Fuck—'' He grunted, saliva leaking down his cheek as he peered up at her, hardening even more by the look of her struggling on his tongue, ''I've missed you, Isla.''

It was the way her name slipped off his tongue, how he spoke it so effortlessly yet filled with so much emotion — that made her tremble. His husky vocals vibrated through her, and she couldn't hold back.

''Theo, fuck—'' Gripping her own hair now, her back arched off the mattress, her legs draping his shoulders to keep him right where she needed him to be, ''I'm—fuck—oh my—Theo!''

He rolled his tongue, slow laps across her dripping core, and he could sense how desperate she was, clenching around nothing but his lips as they abused her clit.

''Come on my tongue—fucking hell—you taste so sweet, pretty girl,'' He muttered, his hands holding her waist solid, keeping her in place, ''Let me taste you.''

The tickling feeling in her lower stomach shredded her to pieces, allowing the knot to unravel and her body to fall apart for him — Isla came.

She crashed in ways she'd yet failed to.

''Like that, just like that—'' He caught every section of her as she so violently shook for him, ''There you go, fucking amazing.''

Theodore bent back up, letting her thighs slip of him as he pushed his boxers down, taking his cock in his fist, and he placed a hand next to her head, ''Don't gather yourself,'' He said, immediately letting his tip stroke along with her throbbing core, ''I want you to fall apart more for me, Isla. I want you to fall and crash for me again—''

''Give me all of you—'' She arched her neck, bringing her lips to his as she kissed him, and they both moaned, loudly at the feeling of him filling her up, ''Yes, Theo—I want all of you—''

Placing his forehead to hers, he felt the dampness as it thinly coated her skin, ''I want you to have all of me,'' He grunted, pulling back just enough for her to feel empty before thrusting his cock into her again, forcefully, ''All of it, Isla. Not just this, not just you screaming for me — I want it all, good and bad,''

''I want you,'' Parting her legs, she bent her knees, letting him sink deeper into her and hit that spot within only he could reach, ''I want to have all of you. I would want you without all of this.''

He couldn't take the way she shaped her sentences. He couldn't control himself, and he tucked an arm underneath her as he pulled her up on his lap, kneeling back. Still with his cock intensely buried inside her, ''Choice or no choice — I don't care. I want this, Isla. I want you—''

Her legs sheeted across his waist as he pounded into her, quickening his pace, and he kissed her chest, nearly coming undone by the sight of her breasts bouncing. His cock forced all the way inside her.

Isla's arms clung around his neck, her hips bucking against his. She almost cried out as he stretched her, ''I want to be with you,'' She couldn't take it anymore, her head falling back but just as he felt her fluttering around him.

Her cunt once again caving for his cock — but Theodore pulled out.

She cried silently at the vain feeling of him not being inside her.

Not speaking at all, he shielded her body with his arms, and he picked her up, taking strides across the wooden floor until he reached the full-body mirror hanging on one of her walls.

''Can you stand?'' He asked, silently in between the heaving breaths he seized. She nodded, and he let her down on two feet, spinning her around and pinning her hands to the mirror glass, ''I want you to see how good we look together like this.''

The room was dark, yet she saw their reflections, her hair in a tousled mess over her shoulders, her skin blushed, and tears rimmed in her eyelids at the way he was intertwining his fingers with hers.

His foot shoved her legs a bit further apart, the untied hand he carried placed pressure upon her lower back, and Isla slightly leaned forward, ''Look at yourself,'' Theodore moaned, stroking the tip of his cock through her slickness, ''Look how your lips parts when I thrust inside you, pretty girl.''

Shivering, she bit her lower lips so hard that she began to draw blood. Both of her hands settled on the glass as he pushed into her from behind.

''Fuck—'' He took his pace, grasping at her waist as he fucked her, ''Look at us, love. Look at us and say that you're not made for me.''

Her tears rolled down her cheeks, and she couldn't keep her eyes open.

He was pounding into her mercilessly. Her knees weakened, ''Please—'' She choked out, and the hand covering her hip flew to her throat, wrapping his fingers around her neck, he bent her head back, letting it fall to his shoulder.

''What was that?'' He grinned, pushing his lips to the pad of her head, ''I asked you to see how good we look together, and you beg for more?''

''Theo—'' She cried, her body shaking and she couldn't stand for much longer, ''Please, I'm—''

''Then let it go for me, come on my cock and let me have you,'' He rasped, loosing his hold of her throat as he gripped her other hand, and he pinned it to the mirror, ''Let me have you, Isla.''

Her second high brutally ripped through her, without warning and she moaned uncontrollably. She couldn't hold it back, ''Theo— please—''

Her arousal dripping down her thighs, he kept his eyes locked in hers through the glass, studying every flicker she made as she came.

Giving her a chance to catch her breath, Theo slowed his movements. Not forcing as roughly anymore, and it almost caused it to be worse for him. Isla was so hot and tight around him. He couldn't think clearly.

Her head fell forward, and he pulled out, sensing just how exhausted she portrayed to be, and he turned her around, gently in his grip, ''Do you want to stop? We don't have to—''

''Come for me,'' Her arms hugging around his neck as he pinched at her thighs, lifting her up and slamming her back into the mirror, ''I want to feel you too. Let me feel you—''

Her sight searching his, seeing the charming glint in them. God, she could never grow tired of his eyes.

Theodore groaned, kissing her shoulder. He lowered her over him again, ''Fuck, Isla,'' One hand crossed her spine, and the other settled on the glass, trying to catch his own orgasm, ''I'm so close—''

''Theo—'' She whispered, her hands on his jaw, and she tipped his head up, ''I'm—fuck—''

He fucked her hard. Her spine collided with the mirror over and over.

"Theo, I'm in—"

"Don't—" He tried to warn, "Don't you dare fucking say it."

"I'm in—"

"Stop, Isla. Don't say it. Don't do this to me. Don't you fucking say it."

Her lips melted with his, ''I am in love with you—'' She breathed before her body coiled at the loud sound of shattering glass, and he ripped her away from the mirror, taking a step back as both of them realized what he did.

He broke the glass as he heard her confess the words he was dying to hear.

She was in love with him, and it caused him to close in as she kissed him, not paying any attention to the broken crystal spilling around them. All Isla saw was him as he filled her up.

''There you go—'' She gasped, moving in his arms, feeling his cock as it throbbed. His hands tensing around her, ''Come for me, please—''

Theodore did. He came crashing down just like she'd done.

''You can't—'' Theodore mumbled, and he let her down on the bed, settling her gently in between the sheets, staring at her with a dash of lost hope as it pained him, ''You can't be in love with me, Isla. I'm not good for you—''

Isla didn't listen. Instead — she pushed her lips to his, kissing him and dragging him down next to her, ''I can, and I am,'' She whispered as he reached for his wand, performing the spell he knew would clean her, ''I am so in love with you.''

Tilting his head to her chest, he tucked his arms around her, and he hid in the safety she brought him, ''The things you say to me, miss Clarke,'' He huffed, tiredly. His eyes hooded.

Theodore fell asleep on top of her, his breaths heated upon her skin as she tried to do the same, but something nagged her. It felt to her as if something was happening, something she wasn't aware of.

Turning to the boy holding her, she laid on her side, and after what felt like hours, she began to feel drowsy. To let herself fade into the world of imagination and just as she did, as her body was on the tipping point of resting.

Something struck her window.

Ignoring it, she scowled, hoping that the sound wouldn't wake Theodore.

But it simply came again, and again and again.

She couldn't neglect it anymore, and she stood tall on her feet, shaking her head as she peered through the curtains, uncertain whether it was a good idea for her to face whatever was happening outside.

Her eyes widening, her breaths ragged as she watched the figure standing in the snow, looking up at her.

Whispering, hesitantly to herself, ''Malfoy?''

______