He'd tried to kill her. That much became certain as Rowan stared at her reflection, hardly aware that Malfoy was drawing nearer to her; gone was her urge to get away from him, and in its place a sinking feeling. His hands had made their way around her neck and he'd squeezed, hard enough to leave bruises that would only get worse. Her mouth felt dry, and she teethed at her bottom lip as she felt her heart quickening and realized just how close to death she'd gotten. How stupid she'd been to do this alone. Malfoy had only asked a simple question - one that she could easily answer; she'd seen the way his body had been completely run through by the pipe - and yet she couldn't stop staring at the marks that dotted her skin.
So instead she nodded, a small movement at first, then as she met his gaze, blazing and hard as iron, she nodded with more finality. The man was dead. She'd seen the vacant look in his eyes, the pool of blood beneath him that had turned into a red river as rain pelted over them. Rowan's fingers came up, still tipped with red and brushed against the splotches. It was then that she realized her hand was shaking, and that her vision had quickly become blurry. Eyes freshly hot and stinging, she blinked again. She would not start crying. This wasn't the moment to break down.
"He's dead. But —" There was still the matter of the body.
Throughout the buzzing in her brain about how foolish she'd been, how absolutely terrified she felt in this moment, and how much she wanted to turn a fraction and collapse into Malfoy, one thing had crystalized amongst the rest: if someone found Walter and traced his death back to her, Walter's attempt on her life was the least of her problems. Slowly, her eyes drifting to rest on the fine brocade of his jacket, Rowan turned finding his shoulder and leaning against it. She just... she needed something solid, something to ground her again. That was all this was supposed to be, she told herself. "But I have to go back....to get rid of - of the body. To delay them finding it as long as possible..." She still didn't know who 'they' were. Just knew that the man who attacked her made it very clear that he was only at the very bottom.
So instead she nodded, a small movement at first, then as she met his gaze, blazing and hard as iron, she nodded with more finality. The man was dead. She'd seen the vacant look in his eyes, the pool of blood beneath him that had turned into a red river as rain pelted over them. Rowan's fingers came up, still tipped with red and brushed against the splotches. It was then that she realized her hand was shaking, and that her vision had quickly become blurry. Eyes freshly hot and stinging, she blinked again. She would not start crying. This wasn't the moment to break down.
"He's dead. But —" There was still the matter of the body.
Throughout the buzzing in her brain about how foolish she'd been, how absolutely terrified she felt in this moment, and how much she wanted to turn a fraction and collapse into Malfoy, one thing had crystalized amongst the rest: if someone found Walter and traced his death back to her, Walter's attempt on her life was the least of her problems. Slowly, her eyes drifting to rest on the fine brocade of his jacket, Rowan turned finding his shoulder and leaning against it. She just... she needed something solid, something to ground her again. That was all this was supposed to be, she told herself. "But I have to go back....to get rid of - of the body. To delay them finding it as long as possible..." She still didn't know who 'they' were. Just knew that the man who attacked her made it very clear that he was only at the very bottom.
![[Image: 8aGHMmh.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/8aGHMmh.jpg)