Falling apart and into place.

Tears leaked from her glossy maroon eyes that are now so dark they could be black. Malfoy is so flustered that all he could do is watch in terror; Candis never cries, she’s always been the tough one—yet here she is crying. She puts her hands up to her face and claps them over her mouth as she tries to quiet her gasping cries. Malfoy feels as if he should do something, like, pull her into a reassuring hug or something. But he can’t. He can’t move. Was it something he did? What did he do to make her cry? He moves his lips, but nothing comes out. Then the only thing he could say comes out in a cracking whisper: “Candis...”

but apparently this was enough. Maybe that was all she needed. Because as soon as her simple, one-syllable name came out she crumbled into him, her warm, shaking body close to his. The spell broken, he can finely move. Malfoy pulls her close, her head on his chest, and whispers, “It’s okay... its going to be alright...” his fingers trailing the sweatshirt Candis is wearing. Maybe Malfoy would have enjoyed this moment if she wasn’t sobbing into his navy blue Elixarin uniform. But this barely even crossed his mind. He was too busy trying to persuade himself that she was only this close because she needed a hug, that it would take her to crumble and break down for her to want to hug him, that it wasn’t because she liked him or anything. It took everything in his power to not look down at the beautiful head against his chest and kiss the top of it. She wouldn’t like that, he told himself, she doesn't like you...