31

                                    

                                          
Not one time during the past week that passed since Draco kicked her out of his room — had she looked at him. 
                          
Isla was infuriated with the blond and how he'd treated her that night. She didn't understand how her speaking his name had the possibility to make him so upset. 
                          
She actually believed that they were getting somewhere — that she was on the horizon to break through a few of the solid walls around him. But she was so wrong, and she felt utterly annoyed with herself because of that. 
                          
That she truly thought she would be able to get close to him and get to know him as the person, Pansy described him to be, but she wouldn't. She knew that now. 
                          
Isla priced just how wicked Malfoy was and how he'd constantly thrown her away whenever it soothed him, but something the girl didn't know — was that he indeed felt terrible for doing what he did. 
                          
Draco wasn't someone who opened up. It wasn't a concealed thing. Everyone knew that. 
                          
He didn't throw her out of his room because he got such a rush out of it —  he didn't do it to be mean. He did it because he panicked. 
                          
Malfoy had only been attached to one person before, and that person left him for someone else. 
                          
Pansy had walked out on him and in the aftermath of the wizarding world, falling to pieces following the war — he didn't dare to open up to someone, ever again. That was a promise he'd made to himself. 
                          
Especially since he knew what Isla felt for Theodore, his best friend. He knew that the girl he couldn't take his eyes off in class — had a connection with Theo, and he was terrified to get his feelings hurt again. 
                          
Indeed, the blond found himself lost in the chaotic girl his life had been assigned to. She wasn't what he'd ever expected her to be. Even if she was a complete mess — someone that needed to get her head straight and sort out her priorities, she was still mesmerizing. 
                          
He couldn't deny that. He couldn't deny that every time he watched Theodore and her together before his best friend left — he wished to curse them. He couldn't possibly deny that every single time he caught someone looking at her — he craved to tear their eyes from their heads. 
                          
He'd grown to be jealous, something he hadn't felt before, and it was a clouded mess in his head. Malfoy didn't know what to make of it, what to do with the girl he was drawn to, yet couldn't wish enough to get away from. 
                          
Frightened to get his heart broken again, he didn't know what to do. 
                          
''You can't avoid him forever, you know?'' Mila chuckled, nearly stumbling over a root embedded in the ground, ''You have to talk to him eventually.'' 
                          
Isla rolled her eyes, shoving her hands into her pockets, and she tucked her chin deeper into her jacket. The wind sored cooly around them as the winter season greeted them. 
                          
Every day shifted a bit darker and the temperature lowered. 
                          
''I can, and I will,'' Isla muttered, looking over at the boy, strolling next to her, ''This is your fault, you know? Both of you. If you hadn't been in our room, doing... what you did—''
                          
Her cheeks burning, and her nose slightly reddened as she drew a breath at the remembering of what she walked in on a week ago, ''I wouldn't be forced to sleep on the couch, and none of this would've happened.'' 
                          
Leo snickered, amusingly as Mila's body stiffened, ''Well if you would've knocked—''
                          
Her hands thrown out in the air in pure frustration, ''I shouldn't have to knock on my own door, you two should learn how to behave—''