Her behaviour when in his presence was amusing;
Her nervous babbling and obvious blushing
Causing those around her to roll their eyes knowingly.
His actions, however, were unexpected,
His softened gaze paired with
An uncontrollable need to fix his...
Isabella was never one to be used to help. No one was truly concerned enough to do so. However, when she cried, he held her. She was consoled. Helped in the cessation of her panic attack.
And until that day, she had no idea what a panic attack felt like. She was always afraid of what would happen if she ever had to go through it. Her thoughts included the need for her to look after herself.
However, someone helped.
To say the least, she was taken aback. When Draco Malfoy, a name that sends shivers up most people's spines, was the one holding her.
She's being calmed down.
She remembered herself, wide-eyed, immediately pushing herself away from him while whispering his name.
And the terror in his eyes was palpable.
He was in pain.
That when he saw her face, someone he had attempted to care for hurriedly moved away from him.
But he quickly masked his emotions. Instead, he examined her petite frame. Noticing the thinness of her torn shirt, he got up and brought her one of his shirts, knowing she was probably freezing.
"Here." he said as he thrust it towards her.
She tilted her head in confusion, staring at it and back at him.
He sighed and motioned for her to change. When she heard that, she let out a small gasp.
When he realised what his idea sounded like, he rushed to correct the minor misunderstanding.
"No, no. Okay, I'll turn around and you can change." He turned around, and waited until she quietly whispered.
"It's okay to turn back now." she said softly, her voice a little hoarse as if she hadn't used it much.
An emotion he'd never felt before bubbled up inside him as he looked at his shirt on her.
Pride. Because for the first time in his life, he felt like he had saved someone from torture. And no one was ever relieved in his presence. People don't let out a long-held breath until he's gone.
He locked his gaze on her. His pupils constricted as he focused on the bruises and cuts on her collarbone. His gaze was fixed on her.
Her gaze, on the other hand, was darting back and forth. She bit her lip as she looked at him and then back at the ground. Her hands were clasped together as she fiddled with the ring on her right hand.
She had a very familiar appearance. But if she kept her head down like that, he'd never know what she looked like.
So he took a confident step forwards and lifted her chin up as her eyes widened.
Her breathing became laboured.
She'd never been touched so deeply in her entire life. He scanned her face until he recognised her.
"Isabella Anderson?" he murmured, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.
She nearly fainted because she was so taken with his voice, which she had never heard before. It was inherently seductive. And she was captivated by his appearance.
She'd never tyre of seeing a face with a killer jawline and eyelashes that tickled his high cheekbones. He was muscular, with a prominent brow bone that cast a permanent glare across his face. Perhaps it was the fact that his eyes were filled with anger, which she'd never seen in anyone else's.
She frowned as he raised his eyebrows at her.
What? She thought to herself.
She flushed as she realised she'd been staring without responding.
He recognised her name.
She tried to speak, stumbling over her words.
"Um, I'm sor- I was w- not really-" She was clearly too embarrassed to respond.
He took a step back and turned around before walking away. Her eyes sank in disappointment. She began walking towards the warehouse's entrance, deciding that she might as well go home.
It was already late.
But he cut her off as his words reached her ears from the other side of the large room.
"Where are you going?" He asked, she looked back at him.
"Home?" However, it came across as a question rather than a statement.
He motioned for her to follow him by shaking his head. She followed him blindly, befuddled and a little in awe. She collided with his hard back as he came to a halt in the doorway of a small room, too deep in her thoughts.
A bathroom.
As he turned to face her, she mumbled an apology. He shrugged and nodded towards the bathroom counter. She walked over to the counter, perplexed, assuming that's what he meant.
He walked in front of her, a first-aid kit in his hand.
How did he get that? She thought to herself.
Bringing his hand up, he yanked her shirt and bra strap down her shoulder, exposing more of her collarbone.
She slapped his hand away, flinching.
Stopping to look at her, he noticed the frown on her lips and the fear in her eyes.
He shook his head before carefully raising his hand to complete the previous action.
Her gaze was drawn to his hand as he carefully drew the shirt and bra strap back down her shoulder and brushed her hair away from the front of her face.
She was calculating his motives as she watched his every move.
However, when he placed an antiseptic cotton pad near her injured collarbone, she calmed down and relaxed slightly.
However, she was startled, and an unknown emotion crept its way into her heart.
He was fixing her pain.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm trying to hold my breath in order to calm my emotions.
If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment, vote, and follow!
I guarantee you'll fall madly in love with this book. So, hopefully. I'm doing my best to remain optimistic.
