Page 51 of Penance

“I… I don’t know,” I whisper, but I don’t say anything else.

He reaches out and lays a hand on my shoulder. I can feel the warmth radiating from his palm, and I want to turn into it, to wrap myself in his embrace, but I don’t.

I can’t.

“It’s alright to not be okay, Mercy,” he says softly. “What you’ve been through… it’s a lot.”

His words should be comforting, but they only confuse me more.

I don’t know what to think or feel.

I want him to hold me, like when we were kids and I would get scared of the dark when we had sleepovers. I want it to be like it was back then, when he would crawl into bed with me and pull me close, even knowing my dad would scold him for it the next day.

I want his warmth, but I won’t ask him.

“Mercy,” he says. “Do you want me to get you something? Your medication?”

I shrug.

I fix my eyes on the floor, tracing the intricate patterns of the rug beneath my feet. I can’t look at him, can’t bear to see the reflection of my pain in his dark eyes.

I would break, I know I would.

So I stay turned away. It’s safer this way.

“Are you feeling nauseous?” he asks me.

I nod.

“I can go get your pills for you, if you think they’ll help.”

Help with what?

Help me forget?

Help me pretend that this nightmare isn’t my reality?

“A shower might help you feel better,” he suggests, his tone casual, as if this were any other morning, as if I weren’t sitting here, shattered and broken. “I can help you get situated and then go down and get your pills. I’ll be back before you’re even done.”

The thought of a shower, of being naked and vulnerable, sends a jolt of panic through me. My heart skips, a flutter in my chest that feels like a trapped sparrow flapping around.

I don’t want to be naked and alone.

I don’t want him to leave.

“I… I don’t know.”

“It’s just a shower, Mercy,” he says.

Just a shower.

Maybe to him.

To me, it’s bigger than that.

I don’t have time to think about it.

The room tilts as Draco scoops me into his arms, and the motion makes my stomach lurch. His grip is firm, secure. The warmth of his body seeps through my clothes, his scent drills into my nostrils, and something deep down inside me clenches hard.

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