"Don’t. Just don’t," he said, and pushed himself away from the doorframe feeling leaden and exhausted. He heard her footsteps rushing after him, out of tune with his and Tiptree’s, and he winced. Why couldn’t she just fucking leave it? A hand closed over his arm in the middle of that sunny, cheerful kitchen, and Draco looked down at it. Slim and graceful, fingers digging hard into his bare forearm and half covering the Dark Mark.