It was good she was leaving for a lot of reasons. It had been too long since he had a shag, his mind was too screwed up, and she was getting too close. Just tootoo much. The last thing he should be thinking about was how she would feel breaking apart around him, would feel when he broke apart inside of her. He needed to step back and evaluate all the reasons why it couldn’t work in any way. He needed to get her out of his house, his blood, his head. Draco knew all about dangerous paths, and he had taken enough of them to know better than taking another.
But he hadn’t stopped pulling all the memories of her. Put them on a new shelf he had built above the window. He didn’t want to forget her. Even if she left and never came back, he didn’t want to not remember that she had been here. It was a losing battle with himself. Let her leave or make her stay, let the curse erase her or preserve every single moment. He couldn’t even control himself. The shelf was full.