NOEL'S POV.
The past month had been one long, exhausting stretch of pretending. Every single day followed the same painful routine that left me drained by the time I fell into bed. I woke up before Draco most mornings, slipped into the bathroom while he was still sleeping, and took my suppressants with water from the tap. I sprayed on three layers of scent blocker until my eyes watered from the chemicals.
I changed with my back turned completely to the room, making sure the hoodie or a high-collared shirt stayed on to cover the mark on my neck.
The bite had healed into a visible scar that I checked every morning in the mirror, touching it carefully and feeling that heavy pull in my chest that refused to go away.
Some days the mark throbbed worse than others, especially when Draco was c
