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SEVEN AWOKE TO THE sound of drumming; slow, steady, and rhythmic. She felt the low bass of it resonate in perfect time with that within her own chest. Their hearts beat in tandem; as one.

  She tried to sit up but was held back by weighty restraints that coiled around her waist like chains, commanding silence. But captivity had never felt so good.

  The midday light that slipped through the glass wall cast them bronze, like some fine sculptures; entirely entangled in one another.

  His warmth seeped into her skin, and she found herself subconsciously moving closer to the source, allowing herself to be held as the great mountain of a man slept beside her.

  Seven couldn't help but stare at him. Never before had he looked as vulnerable as he did in that moment.

  In another life, in another world, he could've been beautiful. — And he still was in some sick way, though his sweetness had long gone, only returning briefly in unconsciousness.

  He may have been gentle many years ago, before the war. Just a boy. But now he was a man, made harsh and unforgiving by time.

  Every aching line of his face told a tale, and Seven couldn't help but notice that he kept his frown even in rest. Had the world really been that cruel as to permanently etch his hurt onto his face?

  Her fingertips ached to reach out and touch him, to feel the sharpness of his features beneath her palms. Were they really as wicked as they looked?

  "What are you looking at?" His eyes did not open when he spoke, as if sensing her internal dissonance and taking her by surprise.

  "You." For some strange reason she did not feel ashamed, though she knew she should.

  Then his eyes fluttered open and she felt herself tense as she locked eyes with him; shocking and grey, but not grey like the colour of fading snow or dying light. Instead they were grey like the smoke that came from fire. Irises like ash and rain and danger. — Like a storm cloud about to rage and tear cities apart at the roots.

  It didn't make sense to her. How could they look like fire and rain at the same time? They were two entirely conflicting notions, and yet they met as one in Draco's eyes to wreak a far greater havoc than ever before.
Then again, not much made sense to Seven, even less so now.

  Less than twenty-four hours ago Draco had pushed her away and told her he had a fiancée, and now she was held close to his chest, sleeping alongside one another as they basked in the morning light.

  Draco suddenly snapped awake, his muscles tensing and his chest growing rigid beneath Seven's head. "What's wrong?" She asked.

" — Sh." Draco snapped, then added, "Listen."

  She listened as intently as she could, sitting up to quell the thrumming of Draco's heart in her ears. She heard nothing. No sound pierced the air except the gentle hum from next-door's TV through the walls.

  "I don't hear anything other than next-door..."

  His face darkened, "There's not supposed to be anyone next-door."

  Seven's eyes grew wide in understanding. Gluttony was here; and she was early. " — I thought she wasn't supposed to be here until tonight?" She hissed, careful to keep her voice down.

They were overly cautious to keep quiet as they peeled themselves from one another and from the bed. Seven dressed quickly in the bathroom, pulling on the first place jumper she'd grabbed and a pair of tight black trousers. She threw her hair up to get the cherry red out her face.

Draco stared at her when she exited the bathroom, before shooting her a lopsided grin, "Nice jumper."

She stared at him in turn, eyes lingering on the glimpse of muscled abdomen as he pulled his shirt on. Then she glanced down, as if remembering where she was, and then the scent hit her. Like Smoke, fresh laundry, and that smell that lingered in the air right before thunder. "Sorry I didn't realise." She mumbled, "Do you want me to change?"

"No." He said at once. "We don't have time, get your stuff." Draco threw Seven's black bag at her, which she caught with ease, then he added. " — Besides it looks better on you anyways."

They packed as fast as they could, shoving everything into Seven's enchanted bag.

"Wait — listen." Said Draco.

The hum from next door had switched off; favouring silence.

Seven stifled a flinch as Draco grabbed her forearms, holding her steady and staring her brazen in the face. "You remember the plan right?"

Grey eyes flickered between green. "Of course."
In the days since they'd arrived at the Siren's Rest they'd gone over and over the plan until Seven knew it better than the back of her hand.

"Whatever you do, don't leave the room until I give the signal. No matter what ok? — Promise me you won't." His insistence made Seven frown but nonetheless she answered, "I promise." After a minor hesitation.

When the first time he'd made the assertion the day prior she'd asked why, to which he hadn't wanted to answer, only answering finally when she'd threatened to abandon the plan all together and go off on her own if he didn't tell her. 'There are somethings you're better off not knowing.' He'd said.

" — And you've got your wand?"

She nodded.

" — And your dagger for if something goes wrong?"

"Draco. I'll be fine. Worry about yourself."

He pulled away with a sigh, finally releasing her, "Okay." His face did not seem the slightest bit satisfied, "But do not underestimate her, or it will be the last thing you ever do."

  Somehow she didn't doubt that. Seven tried not to think too deeply into it, but Draco's depth of knowledge made her suspicious. He spoke as if he knew them. She shut the thought out, the last thing she needed was to become suspicious of her only partner in this world.

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QOTD- did you know I have a Harry Styles fic?;)