This chapter contains some soft mature content and hurtful inner conflict that may be triggering. Please read with caution.

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Isla fled that night. She fled. She always fled.

She escaped the trapping loop of her feelings before it got the better of her because it would. She knew it would. It would ever so get the better of her. It always did. Especially now.

It would have her screaming and shouting and cursing him for doing this to her. It would have her fighting and battling him more, and she couldn't go through that again. She didn't want to.

Pansy.

He was still in love with Pansy.

He said he wasn't. He promised her that he wasn't. Yet he was.

He lied. Draco lied. He told her that she was it. That it was her now. That she was his and that they could finally try and be something more — Isla didn't want to be anything more now.

He hurt her when she least expected him to do so, and she couldn't be mad at him for it. She couldn't blame him. She didn't want to be that type of person who blamed him for feeling something for someone else, for still being in love with his first love.

Yet she did. She blamed him, and it ripped her to pieces.

Standing in her room, she shook. Her body shaking. Her insides aching. She didn't know where to go or what to do. She was meant to stay there, to attend her classes and support Leo and Mila with everything they tried to work through — but she couldn't do that, not when she was breaking herself.

Her room echoed in complete silence. It was too quiet. It felt suffocating, drowning almost. She hated it. She hated the emptiness mirroring inside. The hollowness he left her with. It took over. It became overwhelming as she paced back and forth over the floor in her room. It was dark. Too dark.

Isla traced the tips of her fingers up to her lips, trying to scrub the feeling of Draco off. Trying to take away how it felt when he kissed her, thinking she was someone else.

It didn't work.

He was still there. She felt him. She felt him inside her. She felt his touch on her. His kisses. His hands. Him. He was everywhere. On her skin. In her hair. On her lips.

The image of him was haunting her. It drowned her.

She stormed into the bathroom, turning the shower on. His scent still lingered. Her scent mixed with his. Panicking. She was panicking as she stepped into the scolding hot water. Her nightdress was still smeared to her body.

The water crashed to the ground. The sound of it scoring around her was nothing compared to the heavy breaths she was taking. Scratching at her neck, her jaw, down her arms. Gone.

Isla just needed him gone. She just needed all of him, the smell, the touch, the words, all of him gone. She began scrubbing at the initials he carved into her chest, clawing with her nails over it to make it go away.

She didn't want it. She couldn't breathe. She didn't want to breathe.

Stop hurting. Stop hurting. Stop hurting.

Blood fused with the drops of water, her skin burning. It stung. It didn't stop hurting.

No matter what she did, it didn't stop hurting. Everything hurt.

And her mind escaped to the one person who could numb it. To the one person that, no matter what, caused her to feel safe.

Her eyes flickered to the sink and her wand resting on it. She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. So foolish. So stupid. She knew it was.

But she couldn't stay there. Draco was absolutely everywhere.

Don't do it. Don't do it. Don't do it.

Isla did it anyway.

_____

The air breezed around her, cold. It was so cold. It was in the middle of the night. It was stupid. So stupid, but she didn't know where else to go.

Her knuckles collided with the door. Nothing. She knocked again—still nothing.

Isla knocked a third time. Debating in her mind if this truly was a good idea. It was far past midnight. It was so late, and the whole house would most likely be asleep.

She shouldn't be there. She didn't have anything else than her drenched nightdress on. Her hair soaking wet. Her skin shivering at the stains of water nearly freezing to ice along the tiny hairs on her arms.

Her eyes pinched shut, breathing out heavily.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Stupid. She felt so stupid. Turning around and aiming to go back to school, she flinched by the door being opened.

Someone yawned, ''Miss Clarke—'' Someone cleared their throat, ''Isla, I mean?''

She spun back around so quickly. His mother. Her eyes were wide and confused, ''Oh, dear....'' She let out a gasp, sticking her head back through the door as she yelled, ''Theodore!''

Isla didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to speak, how to explain herself, how to explain what she was doing there in the middle of the night, soaked in water. Numb. She was so numb.

''Theodore!''

''Yes!''

Her arms wrapped around herself, shaking. She was shaking.

''What do you want— oh my—'' Theodore halted in the doorway. His sight fell over that shattering girl immediately, ''Damn it.''

Isla's lower lip began to quiver, her head shaking, ''I'm—''

Theodore marched out in the chilly weather. His chest was bare. His night pants hung loosely around his waist. He crashed against her. He didn't speak more, neither did she.

Isla failed to cry since she left the Malfoy Manor. She didn't think she could cry more than she'd done in Draco's house, but she could. Oh, how Isla cried against Theodore's chest. She cried and cried as he held her.

Take the pain away. Take the pain away. Take the pain away.

His hand pressed her head into his chest. His other hand moved slowly over her wet spine, ''It's okay,'' He mumbled, pushing his lips against her hair, ''You're safe here.''

She nodded, her knees weakening. She was tired. Isla was exhausted from feeling. She didn't want to feel anything anymore.

Theodore cocked his head, staring back at his mother, ''I got her.''

The lady nodded, giving a faint smile at the situation before she disappeared into the house again. Leaving them alone outside. The wind tugged at both of them. The night was darker than ever.

Never had it felt so dark as it did now.

''Come here, love....'' He bent his knees enough for his hands to grasp at her thighs, and he lifted her, gripping her legs and letting her wrap them around him, ''I got you, Isla.''

He didn't understand what was happening to her. He didn't know how hours earlier, she stood in that Manor, asking him to leave — only to come to him for comfort. He didn't mind it. He felt good with the fact that she strived for ease with him.

Lifting her all the way upstairs, he didn't stop until he reached the bathroom connected to his own room. Her head was still tucked against his shoulder, hiding from everything. Hiding from herself.

Theodore turned the water on, standing below the stream as it poured. He didn't let her go. He held her there, close and safe wrapped around him, ''It's safe here, Isla....'' He muttered into her hair, feeling how her body calmed by the warm water.

''I don't—'' Gritting his jaws, he was clear with the fact that this must have been Draco's doings. He loved his best friend, but to see her break caused him to burn with rage, ''I don't know what he did, Isla, but you're safe here. It's just you and me.''

No matter how much Theodore could come to hurt her, he was always safe. That was the thing she loved most about him. That he took her in, he protected her and held her when she needed it. They put their issues aside for a moment. It was well-needed, more than it.

''I'm here, love.'' He spoke, feeling how she slipped from his arms, slowly. He let her down, standing in front of her with his touch on her arms, ''You're not alone.''

Isla nodded. Her forehead fell to his chest. He could feel how numb she was, how much it was aching inside.

Taking his fingers and dragging them up the span of her arms, he hooked them underneath the dress she was wearing, and he let the stripes fall off her shoulders. The whole of the fabric fell to the tile ground. He reached behind her, unhooking the lace bra she wore, and repeated the action.

It felt good to her. It felt so good to her. He was so calm. He wasn't violent. He didn't hurt her. He saved her. He pulled her up from below the depths of betrayal, and he kept her balanced, fixed.

She loved him. She loved him so much.

He loved her more.

Taking a bottle of soap in his hands, he arched back, looking down at her, ''Can I?''

''Take him away,'' Her voice was barely heard, ''Just take him away, please.''

Pain. Take the pain of him away.

He did. He poured that bottle of soap in his hands, and he washed her clean. Every stain of Malfoy he tried to take away. His jaws gritted as he watched what he'd done to her, when he saw the mark on her skin. His mark on her skin.

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.

He did.

She was more important to him than any type of claim could ever be.

''I don't know—'' He swallowed his words, biting his own tongue. He was terrified to hurt her more, ''I don't know what he did, but Isla....''

She looked up at him. She was still crying. She didn't know why she was still crying. She was safe here.

Draco was going to break her heart. She knew that. She was almost toe-tripping around it, almost waiting for it to happen. Isla was prepared. She knew, yet she didn't.

''He's not a bad person. I promise you that. He does stupid things, but he isn't a bad person. Poor choices don't make an evil man.''

Isla closed her eyes again. Her forehead was back against his chest, ''I never said he was evil.''

''I know you didn't, but I know he can be, and I want you to know that his actions... they speak loud sometimes, but he doesn't mean to hurt you. I promise. He's—''

''He's still in love with Pansy.''

Theodore closed his eyes now. He felt her pain as it blasted around them.

His hands didn't move over her body anymore.

''He still loves her, and I can't do anything about it. I can't be mad at him. I can't hate him. I can't leave him. I don't know what I can do anymore.'' She was shaking. She was blurting, letting it all out. Her voice cracked through her words, ''He can't help what he's feeling. I can't make him feel something else. I don't want him to feel something else if he doesn't. If he loves her, then he loves her.''

Theodore began to move again, his hands brushing the blond boy off her skin, ''You love us,'' He mumbled, ''You love the two of us. You're in love with him, and you're in love with me, and that's alright. Perhaps he—''

''He can love her,'' She said. Honesty riddled her thin vocals, ''He's allowed to love her. He just doesn't love me.''

Theodore's heart ached for her.

''He doesn't love me, and that's alright too. I can't make him fall in love with me.'' She felt the water soak them both, ''And I know that he doesn't. I know that he doesn't love me back, and I still let him be with me. I let myself put that aside because I feel for him, but I can't do it anymore.''

The bubbles of soap flooded off her, hitting the ground in sync with the pouring water.

''How?'' He asked, holding her anchored and moored. ''How do you know he's in love with her?''

''He told me.''

''He told you?''

Isla swallowed yet another sob. It started to hurt more again. It ached graver.

''He was drunk and he... he thought I was—'' Breathing out, she clung onto him harder, ''He thought I was her.''

''Damn it, Isla.'' Theodore wrapped his arms around her, granting her mercy in his hold, ''I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.''

He couldn't speak for Draco anymore. He couldn't mend what he'd done. He messed up. He messed her up, and Theodore couldn't fix it.

He knew his best friend to be foolish, illogical at times, but never did he believe Draco would do that to her, intoxicated or not.

She didn't speak more. She didn't say another word as he lifted her again. He carried her to the sink, drying her with a towel before he took her to his bed. He asked her if she wanted him to go, to leave her and let her have some time to herself.

She didn't. She wanted him there.

It felt safe with him.

He laid down next to her, taking his drenched pants off and changing his underwear. He wanted to offer her a shirt, but he knew her. Isla preferred to sleep without any nightclothes on. He'd caught onto as much.

His arms around her, her body close to his.

She drained him of everything in that dark room. She voided him of comfort, solace, emotion, everything she could reach. She didn't want to be numb.

Save her. Save her. Save her.

Theodore arched his neck, looking down at her and planting a kiss on her forehead. Isla held him tighter as she met his gesture, gazing up at him.

He looked at her with so much apology in his eyes. It stained his irises. It shook her how apologetic he was for his best friend.

Take her pain. Take her pain. Take her pain.

Her eyes were smudged too. Pain. There was so much ache in her pupils. He could see it through the soft strokes of moonlight as it flickered. She was hurting so much.

His fingers trailed tiny circles over the length of her upper arm. The other one hand found hers underneath the sheets. He tangled their fingers together.

''Kiss me,'' She whispered, her hand tensing around his, ''Please—''

He nodded. He kissed her. He let his lips melt with hers. He took her pain.

Take more. Take more. Take more.

Isla was so desperate. She lacked for something more. Her touch grasped at his shoulder, falling to her back and dragging him with her.

More. More. More.

She needed more.

Theo laid on top of her. Still kissing her. Allowing her to use him. She wasn't sure that she used him. It didn't feel like it.

He was just as desperate for her as she was for him.

Theodore owned his own demons. He held so many secrets behind that adoring facade. He had so much to hide, so much to tell. He was hurting, too, in ways he couldn't tell her.

Take his pain. Take his pain. Take his pain.

Her legs spreading apart, causing him to seek lower between them.

She needed him to take the pain away. She needed to take his pain away. Isla needed him to ease every fiber in her body. She needed him to take Draco away. To erase every trace of that blond boy.

''Isla...'' Theo whispered against her lips, lowly, hesitantly. He knew what she needed from him. He knew what she craved, ''Not like this....''

She just needed him to numb her, to make it stop hurting, to cease that fire that flamed within her chest. She just needed it to stop hurting.

''Please,'' She said, her voice breaking, ''Please.''

He knew what this was. They both did.

It took him a moment. Minutes where he was so close to her, seconds of silence where they both looked at each other. Their souls were stained, tainted.

He needed her to take his pain too.

Theodore slowly pushed inside her. His lips held inches away from hers. He didn't kiss her. She kissed him. Her fingers grasped at the roots of his locks, tangling and intertwining with all the pain that soared through her veins.

Her whole self was aching. He could feel it. He was aching too.

He rolled his hips against hers steadily, calculated, measured. Not too hard, not too easy. Just enough for her to hurt a little less. Just enough for him to break.

They were using each other, and they weren't. Taking all that heartache and turning it into them. It wasn't easy anymore. It was messy, chaotic.

Theo grabbed her hip, coating the curve of it with his palm and bringing her closer to him. Pushing deeper. Breaking harder.

Break her. Break her. Break her.

She cried. He cried too.

Break him. Break him. Break him.

Tears silently rolled between them—his falling to her skin, hers coursing with his. Pearls moved with anguish. Droplets fell with sorrow.

Neither spoke a word. She gasped into his mouth. He bit her lower lip. His forehead pressed to hers, her fingers clawing at his neck. Her thighs clinging onto him, his hands moved over her body.

Isla let her pain go with him. Falling apart underneath him. Crashing and burning in that heartbreaking love she carried. He fell and drowned in all that love for her.

She brought him so below the surface that he didn't know if he'd ever see the sparks of the surface again. He wouldn't. He was so lost in her. He was so achingly trapped in the embrace she had him prisoned in.

He loved her so much. Theodore loved Isla so much that he let her fall and crash and fade below him.

He was close. She was closer. He was breaking. She shattered. He moaned. She cried.

Theodore kissed her. Isla kissed him.

Still looking down at her, he traced his lips below her eye, he kissed her tears away. He took her pain. He took her ache. He took what Draco had lost and turned it into his.

She closed her eyes. Open them. He told her to keep them open. She tried to speak. Be quiet. He said to be quiet. Her body shaking. Don't break. He calmed it.

Beautiful. Bitter. Pained and stained.

They hurt a little less now.

She wasn't as numb anymore. He didn't shatter.

Theodore watched the red, bleeding mark on her collarbone. He placed his lips above it. He kissed it. She shook. He hated it. She feared it. He said it was okay. She believed him.

''With me,'' He said, hushed and still. Finding her lips again, ''Come with me.''

Isla nodded. Her tears kept streaming. Her hair spilled wildly around them. He took her jaw in his hand, angling her face to meet his. He kissed her again.

It hurt. It didn't.

It was easier to breathe. She could breathe again. He couldn't.

Theodore rolled off her. She followed.

Her head rested on his chest. Long quiet moments seeped where neither dared to speak. ''I'm sorry....'' She finally whimpered, ''I know this hurt you.''

Theo cleared his throat, ''I'm sorry I lied to you.'' His head heavy upon the pillow, his arm holding her, ''I know I hurt you earlier today when you were at that ball. I know me not being honest with you hurts you.''

''I know it hurts you to lie,'' Her tone thin, hesitant, ''I know you wouldn't lie without a good reason to do so.''

Theodore brought her even closer by turning to his side, her nose brushing against his chest. His lips felt hot on her forehead, ''I wouldn't, but that doesn't excuse the fact that I am lying to you.''

Isla's mouth curled up into a frail smile, ''I know....'' She let her own arm sneak below his, crossing his torso until her fingers drew circles upon his spine, ''But we all have our secrets. You always said there were things you couldn't tell me.''

Theodore bent back, enough to get her eyes to flicker to his, ''Isla...'' He mumbled, ''I will tell you. I will tell you everything when I'm ready. I promise.''

It took her a moment. One moment of just staring at him. One moment of just them being there, holding and healing in each other's arms.

''I know you will....'' She nodded, accepting the fact that he owned secrets she wasn't allowed yet, that he had things he couldn't tell her, ''Just... Just tell me when it's about that, don't lie about your family. Don't lie about what they think of me.''

''Isla—''

''We could've had a real chance, Theo.'' It began to hurt again, ''You and me. If you didn't make me believe that they hated me... If you didn't leave that one time and if you... We could've been together.''

They both ached again, holding each other tighter.

''We could've been good together...Without all of this.''

''Without him?''

She swallowed, closing her eyes.

''Don't think like that. He made you happy too, didn't he?'' Theodore's voice was soft, so comforting, ''I know he did. I saw you two together. He makes you happy and you... Isla, I don't think anyone has done anything for him, the way you have.''

She didn't have any tears left to cry. She didn't want to cry. She just wanted to hide from the world.

''He hurt me.'' Isla hushed, her body felt tired, exhausted, ''I always knew he would be the one to hurt me... I just didn't expect it to break me when he did.''

''You're safe here.'' He said. He was so tired too, ''You're safe here, love. Try to get some sleep.''

She did. Isla nestled up against him. Hiding from the world in his strong arms.

It didn't hurt as much anymore.

_____

''Theodore!''

Isla woke up by the pressure lifting from the mattress. The lips being pushed against the side of her head, ''I'll be right back,'' He muttered. A yawn took over on his way out.

She didn't understand a thing until she heard the mumbling voices from outside. His mother had called for him again.

She smiled, huffing out a sigh as she rolled over to her stomach to where he'd been lying. Feeling the warmth of his body still lingering in the sheets. The sense of Malfoy slipped away, more and more.

It didn't ache as much today.

Theodore indeed took her pain away.

Tucking her arms underneath his pillow, she buried her face in it, breathing him in. Savoring that brown-haired, calm boy — in.

She laid there for minutes, simply peering around in his room. Isla failed to pay any attention to it the night before. She was so consumed in the ache storming through her that she didn't notice how clean it was.

There was a row of bookshelves coating one of the walls. They climbed all the way up to the roof and were packed with different books. The two windows were massive, and a little bench was built along the ledge of it. It had white and grey pillows, a beige blanket.

Isla rolled her eyes at the way she knew his mother was the one decorating it. There was no absolute way Theodore would settle for calm colors as the ones that shaded in his room.

The walls were light, the floor covered in dark wood. His bed stood in the middle of it, pressed against a wall. His desk was clean, only a couple of books and quills placed upon it. The closet was shut, but the wooden doors of it carried mesmerizing details.

Isla propped herself up on her elbows, reaching for the t-shirt spilled on the ground before she threaded it across her bare body. The fabric stretched to the middle of her thighs, and she stood up, nervously tugging at the edge of it.

She walked up to the bookshelf, studying the pieces he had until her eyes fell upon a Romeo and Juliet copy. She smiled even wider. Isla always adored that book. It broke her heart. It caused her to cry and cry, but she still loved it. It was addicting.

Slipping down on that window bench, she flipped the pages open, seeing how he'd put tiny little notes next to the paragraphs. It made her warm. He made her warm as she sat there, reading the thoughts his mind held.

Isla couldn't quite wrap her head around how perfect this boy lived to be. He was outstanding. No one could ever compare to the grace he had. He took her breath away constantly. She adored that about him.

She adored that no matter what, they settled each other first. He took her in with open arms, and she forgave him. He took her pain away, and she mended his.

''Isla...'' Theodore stood in the doorway. His face was pale and drained of color. He was gripping onto that doorpost with dear life.

Gone. The warmth was gone, and the ache took its place.

She frowned confusingly as she put the book down, looking up at him with wide eyes, ''What happened?''

He gulped. He looked away. He was hurting again, ''I'm so sorry for this.''

Her eyes snapped to the figure next to his. Her lips pushed together. Gritting her jaws and teeth.

No. No. No.

''Clarke...''

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