At times her stomach clenches, and it rarely occurs- only when he's away. She sits staring up at the grey clouds, the sun falling over the horizon, the faint breeze and waft of earth erupts into her senses. As her eyes lock onto the waves crashing against the shore, the saltiness drifts up, sending wrath of familiarity through her, and it's almost comforting. It's violent but physically beautiful. She watches the birds fly over her head in arranged placement, and the entirety of the world around her slips away as she becomes one with the peace of nature battling amongst her own thoughts. It's when she's been sucked up in her own world, she takes the time pondering if her waiting is a reflection of an actual prolonging- And if she ever actually wants to know who Draco Malfoy really is.