Chapter 032 · Welcome to Seventeen's Campfire Confessions, Where Secrets Spark and Kisses Get Complicated!

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the faces of her friends as they shared stories and laughter. The atmosphere was light, buoyed by the warmth of camaraderie, yet underneath it all, Seventeen felt a growing tension—a churning anxiety that gnawed at her.

The sun had fully set, and the stars began to blink into existence above them, a tapestry of silver and blue that made the night feel alive. But even the beauty of the night couldn't distract her from the pressing urgency of Noah's letter or the weight of the secrets she held.

Seventeen watched as Light animatedly gestured with her hands, recounting a tale of adventure within the borders of Traeh from her childhood, her laughter infectious. Sablina, Hunter, and Amelia leaned in closer, captivated, while Claus chimed in with his own exaggerated interpretations. Draco sat beside her, his presence both grounding and electrifying. They were far from the group, enough that anything could happen and the others wouldn't even see, but they a good view of the others from their spot.

He caught her gaze and held it, his intense ice-blue eyes searching hers. She felt a jolt of electricity pass between them, a silent communication of unspoken words and hidden desires. Yet the walls she had built were high, and the turmoil of emotions she fought to contain surged within her.

"Serena," he said, breaking her reverie. His voice was low, drawing her attention fully to him. "Can I ask you something?"

Her heart raced, and she nodded, though part of her wanted to turn away, to shield herself from whatever was to come. "Of course."

"What's your story?" His eyes bore into hers, and in that moment, it felt like the world around them faded away. "You're strong, capable, and yet… there's something you're not telling us."

Seventeen swallowed hard, the weight of his question pressing down on her. She was an expert at deflection, at maintaining the mask of Serena D'Angelo, the confident doctor, a guide leading them to safety. But there was something in Draco's gaze that made her feel exposed, as if he could see straight through the carefully constructed facade.

"I've had to take care of myself for a long time," she said, forcing the words out, her tone light. "Being an orphan isn't easy. You learn to rely on yourself."

Draco leaned closer, the warmth of his body radiating toward her. "That's not all there is to it. I can see it in the way you move, the way you fight. You're not just a survivor; you're a warrior. There's more beneath the surface, isn't there, Seven?"

Seventeen felt her breath hitch in her throat. It shocked her how much she wanted to share everything with him—the pain, the loss, the betrayal—but a part of her screamed to keep him at arm's length. "Maybe I'm just good at hiding it," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Draco studied her for a moment longer, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. "I know I've said this a lot in the past days, but whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone," he said softly, his voice steady and sincere. "I trust you, Seven. You've proven yourself to me, time and time again."

Trust. The word lingered between them, heavy with meaning. She felt a warmth spreading through her, a flicker of hope and something more—something dangerous. He was igniting within her the same feeling he had the night Corvos had come to her. How could she let herself lean into this connection when everything about her was rooted in secrecy? The idea of confiding in him, of showing him who she truly was, terrified her.

But as she looked into his eyes, something deep within her yearned to break free from the confines of her self-imposed prison. She could feel the tension between them shifting, growing palpable as he leaned closer, his breath mingling with hers.

"Seven," he murmured, and the sound of her real name—not her birth name but the one she had learned to own as hers—sent a shiver down her spine. How did he know? How had he pieced it together?

Just as the weight of her thoughts threatened to drown her, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with his, not giving her any time to self-doubt herself and run from him, from what had been going on between the two of them. The kiss was fierce, igniting a fire within her that had long been dormant. She melted against him, every ounce of her resolve crumbling as his hands found her waist, pulling her closer.

Her first kiss.

But a rush of clarity hit her in that moment, cutting through the haze of desire. She pulled away, breathless, her heart racing as guilt washed over her. "Draco, we can't…" she started, but he wasn't finished.

"Can't what?" he pressed, his voice low and almost desperate. "Can't feel this? Can't want each other? I've been fighting it too, Seven. I've been trying to deny this connection, but it's too strong."

His eyes searched hers, filled with a yearning that sent another wave of heat coursing through her. She fought the instinct to lean back in, to surrender to the pull between them, but the physical attraction was undeniable. The chemistry was electric, an undercurrent of emotion that danced just below the surface, begging for release.

"I—" she started, but the words wouldn't come. The walls she had built around her heart felt like they were crumbling under the weight of his gaze.

Draco leaned closer again, brushing his lips against hers, this time softer, more searching. "I need you, Seven," he whispered against her mouth. "I can't pretend anymore. I can't fight this. I need you like I need oxygen, please don't deny this."

And with that, he kissed her again, deeper this time, pulling her into him, as if he were trying to fuse their very beings together. Seventeen's resolve shattered completely. She found herself kissing him back, pouring all the longing and confusion she had into that moment. His wide hands took her by her waist and lifted her from her sit on the ground, making her straddle his lap, pausing his hands on her ass possessively, her hands going inside his shirt as he deepened the feverous kiss.

But just as quickly, a surge of guilt rushed back. She broke the kiss, pulling away slightly, her heart racing. "Draco, we shouldn't. Not now," she gasped, struggling to regain control.

"Why not?" he replied, frustration creeping into his tone. "Why do you keep pushing me away? We're here together, and it feels so right."

"Because I'm not who you think I am," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I can't let you get hurt, not when you don't know the truth. Not when I have so many secrets."

His expression shifted, a mix of understanding and frustration washing over him. "I don't care about your past, Seven. I care about you. Whatever it is, we can face it together. I promise."

The intensity in his eyes sent another shiver down her spine. How could she fight this? How could she deny the longing that surged between them like wildfire?

But the shadows of her past loomed larger than ever, whispering reminders of the pain and loss that surrounded her. "You don't understand," she murmured, her heart aching. "It's not just about us."

Draco took her face in his hands, grounding her. "Then help me understand. Tell me what's going on. Don't shut me out."

For a moment, Seventeen felt the weight of his gaze, the honesty in his words. The temptation to let him in surged within her. But just as quickly, the fear of losing him, of dragging him into her darkness, held her back.

The distance between them felt insurmountable, the pull of their connection almost agonizing. And yet, as he leaned in again, his lips hovering just above hers, she couldn't help but close the space between them one last time, allowing herself to drown in the chaos of their emotions.

She kissed him back, deeper, losing herself in the warmth of his embrace, but the shadows of her past danced just beyond the firelight, whispering warnings of what was to come. In that moment, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them—caught in the eye of a storm they were yet to face. Drowning in their untitled feelings for one another.

His hand lingered on her neck for a moment, descending her waist, then her ass, before crawling into her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin as she felt his, her nails drawing marks in his back as she struggled to end the little distance that remained between them. And as his slander fingers wondered underneath her bra, on her wide prestine breasts, a low moan scaped her lips over his.

"Draco—" his name.

"Mine," he descended his lips to her neck before reclaiming her mouth, "you're mine, Seven," Draco hummed possessively, his fingers twisting her nipples before switching them for her curvy ass, pressing her body against his, needy for more. "Mine," their lips crashed against each other again.

And all she could think was— ["I'm screwed."]