Isla had yet failed to wake up.

Twenty-four hours had passed since the curse violently coursed through her body, and she fainted. The pain was too unbearable for her. She'd never felt anything like it, and it caused her to fall into a heavy sleep.

As she laid there, on Theodore's bed — she had no clue what was happening around her.

She didn't own a thought to what struck following the torture as it carved her open from inside.

Isla didn't know that Draco spent minutes whispering silent spells against her neck, trying to heal her as she was shattering in his arms. He hated himself. He'd never hated himself more than he did at that time.

That spell was meant for him.

He was the one who snapped the guard's neck. He was the one who took the first life. He was the one to blame. Yet, she was the one suffering for it.

He hated that she loved him so much that even when she hated him — she threw herself in front of him. He hated her for that, for the love he didn't feel like he was worthy of.

He despised her for caring. He had happily taken that curse if it meant that she wouldn't be laying there, unconscious on Theodore's covers.

They even sent for Mila. Theodore went to bring her back in order for her to help him heal Isla.

Draco just stood on the opposite side of the room when Theo was gone. He stood there when Theo was there. He stood there when Theodore was lying next to her. He stood there all the time. For the entirety of the twenty-four hours she was unconscious. He just stood there, watching her.

Draco barely blinked.

He was watching her chest, making sure that she was breathing. He watched her closed eyes, wanting them to peel open. He watched her hand, wishing for her fingers to twitch.

He didn't breathe. Didn't want to breathe until he could drown in the ocean of her eyes again.

But not once did he touch her.

Not since he placed her in that bed.

As they left Azkaban nearly a day ago, he carried her out. Draco carried her numb body in his arms while Theodore and Leo fought their way through the guards. He didn't let go of her. He didn't stop looking at her as fire spread around them.

Not even when they were outside, ready to apparate their way back to the Nott residence, and he hauled his wand up, setting the whole of Azkaban on fire, did he stop looking at her.

Theodore had yelled at him, nearly cursed him for burning the place down, but Draco didn't care. He wanted every single soul in that place to burn. He wanted all of them to suffer for what she was going through.

Draco didn't stop there.

After he set the place on fire, watching it torch in flames, he sealed it with magic. He locked it down so no one had a chance to escape.

He didn't care for the lives he took because she was hurt.

Draco Malfoy would happily do it all over again if he had to.

He'd do anything to avenge the fact that she was barely breathing in his arms, and he did.

But now — now he stood there, watching her as she fought to hold on.

He heard Mila and Leo argue. He heard Theodore break their fight up. He heard his best friend trying to meddle between them. He didn't care.

Draco didn't care for anything but her.

He hated them. He hated them all for getting themselves into the mess they did, only for it to end with Isla being wounded.

He hated himself more.

Theodore tried to speak to him. He didn't answer. Theodore tried to yank at him, to shake life into his solid figure. He didn't budge. Theodore tried to fight him, to provoke him into snapping out of the trance he was kept in. He didn't.

Draco didn't bother. He just looked at her.

He stared at everything he adored about her, the freckles so shy as they were on the edge of blooming, her lashes as they thickly framed her eyes, her lips, plumb, and pink. He loved the color pink on her. Her collarbones showed underneath the worn T-shirt Theodore had clothed her in. Her skin as it blushed.

He always loved her skin. From the minute he saw her, the softness of it, the scent as it lingered, had him trapped, mesmerized.

She would be fine. It was just a curse. She'd be fine.

Isla would make it, yet it felt to Draco as if she was dying.

Theodore was dying too.

He sat next to her for as long as he could. He held her hand. He rubbed circles over her knuckles. Every time he left the room, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He kissed her as much as he could.

He laid next to her. He held her. He breathed her in. He didn't want to stop breathing her in.

He knew she'd be okay. She was strong. She was healthy. She'd be awake within the span of a day, yet he couldn't breathe when she wasn't there.

He couldn't think when he couldn't hear her speaking. He didn't want to talk unless it was with her.

Theo didn't even want to look at someone else than her. He didn't know how to make her feel safe as she rested. He didn't know what to do for her, and every time he looked at her, it felt like someone ripped a hole in his chest and tore his heart out.

He hated himself too.

He absolutely loathed himself because he didn't hold her tighter, because he didn't stop her from throwing herself into harm's way. He hated himself for allowing her to do that, to almost scar herself to a point where it would be impossible for him to piece her back together.

Theodore always managed to do that, fix her. He fixed her, and she mended him, always. It was always them healing together, even now.

And as Isla laid there, barely letting out a shallow breath, she felt her lashes fluttering. She felt as something warm was close, weighing her down.

Theodore.

Theo was lying on top of her.

She managed a faint smile, feeling his breath on her bare shoulder. He'd dragged her shirt down right below the crease of her neck, and he'd fallen asleep with his nose buried against her. Ever so did he do that, and never did she mind it.

Not even now.

It was what had her open her eyes. It was what had her lift her own hand up to brush it over his bare spine, to hold him just that inch closer and whisper that she loved him into the top of his head. Isla wanted to feel his arms wrapping around her tightly, squeezing her until she faltered to breathe.

There wasn't a feeling better than that one. Than to be completely held by that boy, utterly pressed underneath him as he slept. She adored it more than anything, and even if she had it for the past four weeks — him sleeping on top of her, his mouth pushed to hers, her fists in his hair, and his hands cruising over her body, she missed it for the twenty-four hours she didn't.

So she reached forward, placing both of her palms over his back and the tips of her fingers nudged this spine.

She froze.

His spine wasn't unclothed.

He always slept without his clothes on.

Squinting slightly through the darkness, she looked right above the mess of brown curly hair resting on her chest, and she met the iced, clear ones from across the room.

Isla gasped. Her back arching to sit up properly, ''What—'' She breathed, shaking her head, and the boy in her lap bolted off her like never before.

Theodore stared up at her. Not knowing if he was more shocked by the fact that she'd pushed him off her or that she was awake.

''Isla, what the—''

''What is he doing here?'' Isla looked back at Theo, swallowing that bitter taste in her mouth from not consuming anything for the past day, ''Why is he—''

Theo groaned, his head dropped to the pillow, ''I told you to get out, Malfoy.''

Draco still stood with his arms crossed, his jaw locked, and his sight narrowed. He didn't blink, and he didn't move for moments.

Not even the pillow Theodore threw at him had him moving an inch. He stood so solid, just looking at her. No emotion splayed out on his face at the reality of her waking up, and the room was too dimmed to see him rightly, but still — Isla believed that she caught some color coming across his pale face. Simply a drop of a feverish shade stained his cheeks.

Draco nodded, one quick nod until he pushed himself off the wall. He stared them both down before he scoffed and he walked out. Slamming the door shut as he whispered, ''I'm getting Walker to look at you.''

Isla wished she didn't wake up to this, to Malfoy's temper, and to the obvious fight she knew would be coming. Almost counting from one to ten within her head, she reached seven until the door was slammed open again.

''You God damn—'' Draco heaved. His hands rushed through his hair, and he yanked his blond strands back, ''Are you out of your fucking mind?''

Isla rolled her eyes, praising herself quietly for being right about this.

''Malfoy—'' Theodore kneeled upon his mattress, gesturing with his hand for the blond to get out, ''Not the fucking time to do this.''

''No?'' Draco nearly shouted now, pointing his finger right at her, ''Not the fucking time? When is the fucking time for this then? Tell me. Please. Because I'd like to know, so I can cuss her the fuck out before she does something stupid next time—''

''Calm down, mate.'' Theodore began to sound annoyed now, backing off the bed to close in on the raging boy, ''Don't do this, not when she just woke up—''

Draco didn't look at him. He looked at her as she sat up against the headboard, her legs crossed and the covers all drawn up to her chest, ''It's not fucking enough that he washes your damn hair and cooks for you? That he eats off of you like you're some sort of bloody plate? You need him to fight me for you as well?''

''How the fuck—'' Theodore scratched the back of his head, his sight flickering between them. Both Isla and Theodore felt the fumes of fury along with the loops of both jealousy and worry as it tore through his vocals, ''You know what? I don't want to know.''

''You looked through my head again?'' Isla picked up her weak voice, raising it as she forced herself to stand on two feet, ''You looked through my head? While I was asleep, Draco?''

Theodore pushed his lips tight. He'd heard that voice before, and he didn't wish to trade places with Draco if it so saved the world right now. There weren't a lot of things that frightened that brown-haired boy, but Isla, with that tone and in this state, did.

''I'm... just...'' Theo gave Draco a nervous grimace before he backed all the way up to the door, ''I'll be back... I just need to... grab something... Walker — no, Mila... I'll go get her...''

Draco looked over his shoulder, glaring at his best friend, ''Care to bring more whipped cream, perhaps?''

Theodore looked away. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he slowly took the handle of the door in his hand and closed it.

''You foul—''

''Spare me the fucking pet names, Clarke.'' Draco seethed. His sight was back at her and more furious than ever, ''You don't get to—''

''No!'' Isla stamped her foot against the floor, ''You looked through my head, Draco! You promised me to never—''

''And you—''

''Shut the hell up.'' Her voice was harder now. Her face grimaced in disbelief, throwing her arms out.

It had him hush down.

''You can't just do that, Draco!'' Feeling frustrated, her palms pushed into his chest, trying to make him back away, ''You can't just—''

Draco didn't speak. He didn't move.

He just took her temper as she poured it over him.

''You can't just cut my neck open with your damn wand and then disappear for a month!'' She stared up at him, heaving her emotions out, ''You can't walk away from me, tell me that you hate me, and then come back and save the day! You're not allowed to be pissed about what Theodore and I did while you—''

''You sure kept yourself busy,'' He mocked, annoyingly underneath his breath as she kept on shouting, ''The shower, the kitchen, the garden, the sink, the floor, the stairs, even the fucking piano...''

''What?'' Isla cut herself off, hearing his quiet mumbling, ''What the hell are you—''

''Why would I be mad about you fucking him on every damn furniture in this house, while I'm trying to keep myself together from what you did to me—''

''What I did to you?'' She looked like she was losing her mind, ''What I did— What you did.''

Draco glared at her.

''You don't think that I've been breaking over this too? You don't think I've been through hell without you here?''

He kept his jaws locked.

''Yes! I slept with Theodore, but I don't owe you any explanation for that, especially not after you walked away. I thought we were past that. I thought we were past all of that and that we could handle this maturely, but obviously, we can't.''

''Handle this maturely? Is that why you lied to me for months—''

''I—'' Isla sighed, her tensed shoulders slightly sunk, ''I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to... Lie. I just... I did what I thought was best for you.''

''That wasn't your choice to make. My life has nothing to do with you.'' He spat, inches near now, towering her with his large frame, ''You have no fucking idea what's best for me. Do you know what would've been best? That you told me, and I could decide for myself what I wanted.''

Her eyes dragged away from his, looking down at the floor. She drew a thin breath, ''I couldn't do that.''

''And why the fuck not—''

''Because you wouldn't have wanted me anymore!'' She broke, the aftermath of the curse that hit her still soared through her veins, ''You... You said it yourself. That if I told you, you would've decided what you wanted, and you wouldn't have wanted me after that. You said you hated them and that you wanted revenge. I couldn't just...''

Draco stared down at her as the moon glimmered through the windows, and it illuminated her face. It was almost breathtaking to him — how she looked even after being hurt, how beautiful she was even in a situation like this one.

''I couldn't tell you because I couldn't lose you.'' Her voice turned harder again as if she earned confidence in what she said, ''I didn't want to lose you. I couldn't, so yes. I kept the truth from you. I didn't tell you, and I am sorry for that. I told you that when you walked away, and I'll tell you again—''

She dared to meet his icing eyes again, looking up at him, ''I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I lied, and I'm sorry that you had to find out the way you did.''

Draco didn't know what to say. He didn't know because he was so mesmerized by the fact that she was still breathing. He was so trapped in her trance and what she did to him just by speaking those words.

''But I won't apologize for being with Theodore, Draco. He means as much to me as you did and I—''

''Did?''

His heart ached.

Oh, how his heart ached at the way she phrased her words. Isla didn't mean for it to sound like it did. She didn't mean to say it like that.

''I didn't—''

''He means as much to you as I did?'' Draco said what she had, and his teeth gritted, ''I don't mean as much to you anymore?''

''Draco...'' Shaking her head, Isla tried to reach for him. To place her hand on his and tell him how wrong she was for saying it in the way she did, ''I didn't mean—''

''I am so fucking—'' He breathed out, yanking away from her touch the second it was meant to reach him, ''I am a fucking idiot. I am so fucking stupid—''

''Can you just listen—''

''You're the one who lied, and now you don't feel for me—''

''I didn't say that—''

"You sure as hell meant it—''

''You walked away—''

''Don't bring that up—''

''Draco, please, just listen—''

''I can't fucking believe this—''

''You can't believe this? You're the one who walked away. You're the one who left me in that damn hallway, and then you have the audacity to come back here and—''

''You have no fucking idea what you're talking about—''

''Well, I bet you don't want to hear it considering you'll never forgive me for trying to protect you—''

''Trying to protect me?''

''Yes, but that doesn't matter anymore because you walked away—''

"And then I came back—''

"Not even speaking to me, but that's alright. You're back to hating me again—''

''Clarke—''

''Just say it, Draco. Tell me you hate me and get this over with—''

''Clarke—"

''Tell me you hate me and leave again, just—''

''I don't fucking hate you!'' He yelled out as he gripped the edge of his shirt, and he pulled it up.

Her heart stopped.

Isla's heart felt like it was close to bleeding itself dry from what she was looking at.

''There!'' His voice was so hard. So hard that it broke, ''I don't fucking hate you, and I hate myself because of it.''

Isla blinked.

She blinked as she tried to process what he was showing her.

Her initials.

He showed her the initials she carved into him, but with something more added to it.

Draco had put a W next to her last name.

Her eyes filled with tears, shaking her head as she looked back and forth between him and the reddened mark on his skin, ''Draco...''

This was his way of forgiving her. This was him, showing her that he forgave her, that he picked her over any type of revenge, that he didn't care for what her last name lived to be.

He cared for her.

She cried.

''There...'' He sighed, folding his shirt back down over the v-mark of muscles he had, ''There it is, Clarke. That's how much of an idiot I am for you, thinking that I still mean something to you.''

Gulping on her tears, she arched back, ''Don't—''

''Don't what? Don't think you didn't mean what you just said? I fucked up—'' He sighed. Draco wasn't fighting her anymore. He was fighting himself. He was battling himself and everything he'd ever done to her, ''I did this to you. I did this to us. I know I said you're the reason we're doomed—''

Isla narrowed her ocean in his silver, looking at him in a way she'd never done before because, finally, Draco Malfoy took responsibility for what he'd done.

''I... I lied too. I treat you like absolute shit, Clarke...'' His tone lowered, nearly as if he was ashamed. He felt embarrassed, thinking about everything he'd put her through, ''Back in school, before I left, now... I... I manipulated you. I used your kindness against you, and I tried to make everything alright by... being physical with you.''

Gulping. Draco had Isla gulping again.

''I get mad, I run away, I come back because I can't stay away, we fight, I kiss you, we make up, and then I fuck it up again. It's like that, over and over, and I... I know it's like that. I know you're like that. I know how to make you forgive me, and that is the cruel part, Clarke. That I know how to make you forgive me.''

He was shaking. As Draco looked down at his hands, resting by his sides, Isla did too, and she could see how he trembled. How he stood there, inches away from her, at last, admitting to everything he'd ever done to hurt her.

''It's fucking... mental. I called you the mental one, but the only one mental here is me. I steered you to what I wanted you to do. I freaked out. I left, but then I came back because I couldn't take being away from you, and I made you forgive me. I knew exactly what—''

He turned his face away from hers, looking at the bathroom door as she kept her sight locked at him. Her eyes roamed over his cheekbone, down his jaw, to his lips as they quivered.

''You didn't fuck us over,'' His tone became quieter and quieter. More and more at fault, ''I did. I fucked us over.''

She shut her eyes closed before her sight floored once more, then right back to him.

''How I touched you before I knew you... I laid my fucking hands on you, and for the way I spoke about Diggory, mocking you about his death...''

He remembered all of it as he stood there, in front of her, staring into her eyes. He remembered how she looked in the beginning, how her irises didn't use to crowd in so much hurt, how she never looked this broken before this happened.

Before he happened.

''I've treated you worse than I've ever treated anyone else.''

She swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. Isla didn't speak. She let him pour it all over her.

''I ran away because I couldn't handle it. They died because of your name, and I couldn't—'' He gritted his teeth so tightly, ''I couldn't look at you. I couldn't be near you, but that's not because of you.''

She let out a trembling breath. Isla barely dared to breathe. She just looked at him.

''I left you because I would never forgive myself for forgiving you.''

Her lips parted, wishing to say something as she felt her heart shatter for him.

Draco took her jaw in the palm of his hand, feeling her head weighing against it. His heart burnt, ''I did this to you. I did this to us.''

She wanted to say something, to speak against him and tell him that she was as much to blame, that she'd done things to hurt him too, that he wasn't all at fault for what they never seemed to be able to be.

He wouldn't let her.

Draco wouldn't let her speak. His thumb found her lips as he pressed it against her.

''Don't.'' He said, ''Don't try and take the blame for what I've done. Let me take this, Clarke. Let me be at fault.''

She didn't want to.

Isla didn't want him to take the blame and feel the heavy weight of it on his shoulders. It wasn't all his to carry.

They stood there, looking at each other with so much apology as it soared between them.

''But what you did yesterday...'' He whispered, lightly brushing his thumb over her lips, ''Never do that again. Never do anything like that again.''

''I couldn't—'' She let out, quietly, ''I couldn't let you get hurt, and—''

Draco sighed heavily as he let go of her, hunching down onto the edge of Theodore's bed. His elbows struck his knees. His head fell to his palms.

''I know you think it's stupid,'' Isla tried to argue, ''But I don't. I don't think it's stupid. I couldn't just stand there and watch while you got hurt—''

''So you getting hurt is better?'' The blond snapped, his neck arched to look up at her, ''You truly think that you being hurt by that spell is any better than me—''

''I do,'' Turning to face him, she inched closer. Her heart ached so vividly. Her chest felt so tight as she reached for his hands, taking them in hers and opening up his arms, ''I do think it's better because you caught me.''

Draco's face fell.

Isla smiled, bitterly and she placed his hands around her, striving to stand in between his legs as she looked down at him. Her hair draped around them, her smile had his pulse quickening, ''You said you'd catch me, and you did, Draco.''

Letting go of her hands, Draco pulled her down to him. Making her straddle him on the edge of the bed as he sat straight, holding her close.

She let her touch grasp at his jaws instead, ''I felt you...'' Slightly pressing her forehead to his, she closed her eyes, ''I felt how you caught me.''

Malfoy did the same. He tightened his grip, and he pressed her so close to him, so near that he felt her heart beating, ''You still got hurt. I will never forgive myself for that.''

''I'd do it again,'' Her voice shaking, ''I'd do it all again if it means you're safe.''

Draco groaned silently. His hands moved over her dressed spine, all the way up to her hair, and he fisted his fingers into the long strands of it. Angling her head back to see her properly, ''Don't say that—''

His breath was so warm on her skin. She'd missed it. She'd never admit to it, but Isla had missed that boy so much.

She smiled again, broader now, ''What if I can catch you too?'' The tips of her fingers lingered over his jaw, ''What if we don't have to fall anymore?''

His lips barely moved as he spoke, ''What if I can't stop falling for you?''

She was so close now. So close that he could sense the warmth of her skin, ''What if I don't want you to stop falling for me?''

Leaning in closer, he was on the tipping point of kissing her. His nose touched hers, his lips brushing over her upper one, "Then I won't—''

''Leo, wait!''

''Don't fucking touch me!''

''Mate, for fucks—''

Isla winced at the loudest slam she'd yet failed to hear echo throughout Theodore's mansion. Her eyes flayed broad, staring back at Draco widely.

He frowned, lifting her off of him as they both stood tall in front of the bed, ''Wait here—''

''No,'' Isla ignored him, stepping back and aiming for the door when she felt his hand wrapping around her wrist to keep her from leaving, ''Draco—''

''Stop,'' He tugged her back, both of his hands leveled over her upper arms, and he held her steady, ''You've barely woken up yet. You won't move from this bed until Mila gets a chance to look at you, alright? I'll go and see—''

The door to Theodore's bedroom slammed open, and the brunet stood with a fallen face in the hallway.

Her heart ached, shrugging Draco's hands off and marching towards him, ''Theo what—''

''Leo,'' He swallowed, taking her in his arms as she crashed against him, ''He's gone.''

_____