Pansy was no less shaken up now than she had been in the immediate aftermath of the whole ordeal at the shop. The only reasons she'd been able to compose herself this much was the fact that Fletcher and Draco had been near. Now that she was in the confines of the manor, safely in Draco's arms, she left out a shaky breath and shook her head.
"No, just," she took another deep breath, resting against him, "could we lay down?" She wanted so badly to not be standing anymore. She wasn't sure she could stand much longer.
She wondered if maybe she wasn't as strong as she'd led herself to believe. She didn't want to be weak, though. She wanted to be the person she'd let others think she was and that person wouldn't have even broken a sweat tonight. "Dragon," she started again, speaking quietly. Her voice trailed off as she tilted her head back to look up at him. Had it been like this for him? Had he gone through this, too? And she'd left him, left him when he was here now, here to make sure she got through this. She hadn't thought she could have felt worse about that.