— Next chapter at 150 votes & 300 comments.
  T.W for mild sexual content & mild reference to suicide.

"DANCE WITH ME?" He asked, hand outstretched. She stared at it for a second, unsure, but the whiskey in her belly filled her with a new sense of bravery.
Some how Seven found the idea of dancing far more terrifying than killing a Sin. — Maybe it was the intimacy of it that she feared. Or maybe it was Draco himself.
— Possibly both, though she would never admit it.

His hand was warm and firm in hers, a steady lifeline amidst this newly swaying world, as the gentle rise and fall of the song wrapped around them.

She stared up at him; eyes wide and afeared, yet with him she found the terror somehow less so.

His other hand found her waist, making her cheeks flush scarlet, as hers found his shoulder and he led them to the centre of the balcony. The sunset was dying then, crying it's final half-flush to the sky before the darkness consumed them, only the slight glimmer of distant stars disbursing the blackness.

  Their movements were slow; deliberate. He raised an arm, spinning her gently before bringing her back to his chest. Seven could feel the beating of his heart beneath her fingertips, relieved to find it was just as strong and erratic as her own.

She found herself made melancholic by the moment. A strange kind of sadness creeping in to the fine lines between her brow. They'd lost their formality now, his hands fell at her waist and hers around his neck as she rested her head on his chest; listening to the rhythmic beats.

"What's wrong?" He asked, though not in the sarcastic or mocking ways he usually would. He was kind, and if Seven hadn't known any better she would've thought him a different boy entirely.

— And for once, she found herself being honest, surprised to find that the words came far easier than the lie ever had. "...I wish this moment could last forever."

Her heart clenched, painfully so, at the thought and from Draco's reaction she knew his did too. Seven didn't flinch when his hand found her cheek, tilting her face upwards. They locked eyes, entirely caught up by the moment and spurred on by their intoxication.

  She should've felt afraid at their proximity, they had never been this close before.
  — To her Draco represented everything she'd once feared. He was strong and male and entirely still unknown, despite the time they'd spend together.
  — But if feeling what she felt was suicide, as she so often told herself it was, then he was the loaded gun. And every time she'd pull the trigger without thought, willing to sacrifice it all if it meant a second more alone with him.

  Seven was drunk. They both were. But somehow she got the feeling that her thoughts were just those she wouldn't allow herself to feel sober, and as she stared into his eyes she felt just that. Sober. Awake. Alive.

  A a few strands of hair, that looked more silver than blonde in the light, fell over his face. Her fingers ached to reach up and touch the moon kissed strands, were they are soft as they looked?

  She usually thought his face looked violent and cruel. An unforgiving kind of handsome, but tonight he seemed cast far kinder. His eyes were warm, so far removed from their usual piercing glare.

  — But still she didn't trust herself, knowing he could change from one extreme to another with little warning. Whether he was heaven or hell she couldn't tell, but either way the most primal parts of herself cried out for him. A dull throb aching in the pit of her stomach.

  Their bodies were moulded as one, an irrefutably perfect fit, as if divinely made for one another.

His eyes were the colour of smoke and his hands felt like fire on her skin. Maybe he was hell. But then why did that only make her want him more?

  His gaze flickered between her eyes and lightly parted lips. Then he drew closer. So close that Seven could count the space between them.
  In that moment they were the only two in the world, nothing around them mattered, everything else fading into the blackness of the fragile stars.

  His thumb swiped across the apex of her cheekbone, and he leaned in to close what little distance remained, soft lips lightly brushing the corner of her own.

Then the air seemed to ignite around them as everything fell into place, and he pressed his lips against hers.

She was unresponsive, but only for a moment as the shock rendered her numb, before the electricity pushed through the cold, coursing thick through her veins like hellfire and she met him with just as much fervour as he had given her.

He was so gentle, as though he was scared that she may break, like a fragile glass that would shatter into a thousand pieces at the slightest wrong touch. Seven felt giddy.

The kiss was every bit as heart wrenchingly sating as she had hungered for and more. She had never realised just how truly starved of him she had been.
She was shocked to find everything about him was so much softer than she had imagined it to be. — But she could also tell that there was a certain harshness behind the facade from the way his hand tightened on her waist. Holding her close and never letting her go.

He tasted like heaven.

Her fingertips wound their way around his neck and into his hair, tugging slightly on the silken strands as she pushed her chest against his, revelling in the feeling of their breaths heaving in tandem and their frantic hearts beating as one.

He pressed and she followed without hesitation, willingly taking everything he gave and after, begging for more.

They were greedy. They were selfish. They were raw and aching before one another, bearing their scars beneath the dark without fear of what the light may show. They had nothing left to hide.

It felt good. So damn good. Seven never knew that something so simple as a kiss could ever make her feel this way. His hands tangled in her hair, tilting her head back and exposing her neck to him, as he made his way down Seven's throat with hot, open mouthed kisses.
She came alive under his touch, the most primal parts within themselves surging forward to take control as he held her face in his hands.

  — And then, he pulled away. Muttering a curse beneath his breath, the sinful words fanning the side of her neck with his warm breath.

"What's wrong?" She asked at once, afraid she'd done something to ruin the moment between them. Her skin felt cold with the absence of him.

" — I..." His eyes flashed down at her, but only for a second before he looked away again. Regret. " — I have a fiancée."
She frowned, note quite believing him, "You're joking right?... Is this about our engagement?"

"No." He was cold then, closing off more and more by the second as he turned his back on her. "I proposed to her long before that..."

She noticed it. The silver ring on his finger that she'd noted earlier, but back then she'd assumed it was just a prop in their own fake engagement, much as her own ring. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Seven felt so beyond stupid. She'd been made a fool of, completely and utterly. She hated him.

"It wasn't relevant." He let out a humourless laugh, and she glared at him, taking the bottle of Firewhiskey in his hands as he began to drink again. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

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QOTD- what do you think? -TFOA