Written For-

Fluff vs Angst Comp (candle, team fluff)

Open Category Comp (het)

i.

Finding her room is a happy accident. He had wanted somewhere quiet, away from this party his parents have made him attend, somewhere that he can clear his mind.

She looks up, pale eyes wide and startled. "You shouldn't be in here!" she says, drawing her dressing robe around her slender body.

"Sorry," Abraxas mumbles, unable to turn his eyes from her.

She looks so beautiful in the candlelight, the flame casting shadows that dance over her pale skin. He could watch her forever, envying the shadows for being so close to someone so lovely.

"Why aren't you downstairs?" he asks.

She scowls, leaning back against the window, her legs stretching out on the sill. "Father says that I ought not be allowed around civil company until I learn to behave myself," she answers bitterly. "Doesn't want me tarnishing our precious family name."

Abraxas laughs. Maybe she's as wild as she is beautiful. He isn't sure why he likes that- pureblood women are meant to be obedient, after all; only heathen Mudbloods cause trouble- but he does.

"Do you mind if I stay?" he asks.

A smile tugs at her lips. It suits her so much more than her scowl. "I think I would like that."

He sits on her bed, legs neatly crossed, eyes watching her hungrily. Neither speak, and Abraxas is okay with that. He is more than happy just admiring her in the candlelight.

ii.

"Candles?" Druella laughs, shaking her head as she opens her birthday present.

Abraxas shrugs.

With a grin, Druella sets the candles aside, poking a thin finger against his chest. "With all that Malfoy gold you've got, you can't think of anything better than candles to give me?" she teases.

Abraxas draws in a breath, all too aware that she is still touching him. His heart races, and he hates it. He is a Malfoy, and he is meant to be so calm, so collected, but she makes him feel like a nervous wreck. "You're a Rosier," he says, grateful that his voice does not tremble the way his body is. "What do you buy for the Rosier girl that has everything?"

Druella sighs. "I don't have everything. There's still just one thing."

"And what's that?"

Her fingers curl around his shirt, and she tugs him closer. "You," she whispers, before pressing her lips to his.

Abraxas knows that this is wrong. Again, pureblood women are not meant to be so forward, so bold. But he doesn't care.

His fingers tangle in her hair, guiding her as he deepens the kiss. "You're a wild heart, Druella Rosier," he laughs when they pull away at last.

"Do you wish to tame me?" she asks, a challenging grin on her lips.

"I would never want that. This is what makes you beautiful."

"Why candles?" she wonders.

"That night, three years ago," he explains. "You looked so beautiful in the candlelight."

iii.

"If Father catches me, I'm dead," she says, but she still follows him deeper into the field.

Abraxas laughs. "I doubt your father would resort to murder," he says, turning his head and winking at her.

"I'm engaged now," she reminds him. "To a man who, as you know, is not you. If Father knows that I am jeopardizing that, putting the Rosier name at risk, murder would not be beneath him."

At that, Abraxas stops. He reaches out, taking her by the wrist and pulling her against his chest. "I'll protect you," he promises, kissing her hair.

"He would kill you as well," she says dryly.

Abraxas considers this for a moment. He's certain she's being dramatic, but he also knows that arranged marriages are serious business in the older families. "In that case, to hell with it," he decides, pulling away ever so slightly and brushing his thumb over her cheek. "We can run away together."

Druella laughs. "You're mad."

"I'm seventeen," he says. "You'll be seventeen in November. We could do it. Find a nice cottage somewhere far away where they can never find us."

"A cottage filled with candles," she laughs.

"Yes. A cottage of candles," he agrees. "We can live out the rest of our lives together. Have a family. Never look back."

Druella stands on her tiptoes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "It's beautiful," she agrees. "But it is only a dream. I have my duty to my family, and you to yours."

"What happened to that wild girl I once knew?"

She places her hand against his cheek. "She grew up."

"She shouldn't have done that."

iv.

"Candles everywhere," he chuckles as he steals her away from Cygnus for a dance. "A beautiful wedding for a beautiful bride."

"A beautiful bride with the wrong groom," she says.

When she's with him, her smile softens. He knows it's all a show. It is her duty to pretend to be so happy about her union with such a noble family. But with him, her mask falls, and the real Druella comes out.

"I have a present for you," he says.

"A wedding present?" she asks curiously.

Abraxas shakes his head. "It'd be a bit inappropriate to bring Cygnus along," he laughs before leaning in, whispering in her ear.

"All right, Malfoy," Cygnus calls, appearing behind Druella, an arm snaking around her waist. "You've had my wife long enough. Simpler minds might jump to the wrong conclusion."

With a tight smile, Abraxas releases his lover, offering a polite bow to Cygnus. "Forgive me," he laughs before disappearing into the crowd.

v.

It feels like years that Abraxas waits, though he knows that it is only hours.

"Abraxas... It's beautiful," Druella says, stepping out of the fireplace, her wide eyes searching the walls, all lined with flickering candles.

"And so are you," he says, climbing to his feet and pulling against him. "I knew that wild girl was still in there somewhere. Who else would run to another man on her honeymoon?"

"Cygnus is asleep. And I still belong to him," she sighs, looking up at him.

"In name alone," he says, kissing her gently.

"And I belong to you otherwise?" she challenges, pushing a hand through his blond hair.

Abraxas shakes his head, catching her hand and kissing her knuckles. "Do you know why I love you, Druella?"

"Because I look beautiful in candlelight?"

"Because you are wild. You belong to yourself. Any man who truly loves you will never try to change that. You are not a prize to be won. You are a woman, a beautiful, strong woman."

She smiles, kissing the hollow of his throat. "You bought a cottage," she laughs, lips tickling his skin.

"For us. For you. Whenever he tries to tame you, you always have a place to home to, a place to be free."