You stepped into the dimly lit room, your footsteps echoing slightly as you adjusted the small bag of healing supplies in your hand. The name on the chart had caught your attention: Draco.

The moment you opened the door, the sound of a deep voice reached your ears, casual and teasing.

"Honey, I’m home."

You froze. Your heart skipped a beat, and the world seemed to shift under your feet. His voice was unmistakable, even after all this time.

"Draco..." The name escaped your lips in a whisper, your eyes wide as they locked onto him.

Draco, sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed, flashed a smug grin. His pale eyes sparkled with an unspoken amusement.

"Oh, look! She remembers my name!" His tone was light, as if they were old friends catching up rather than two souls who had been ripped apart by circumstances beyond their control.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. This couldn't be real. Not after everything.

"H-How... how long have you had your memories back?" you stammered.

"Eleven months," he answered without hesitation.

You blinked, your heart sinking. Eleven months? It had been that long, and he hadn’t come back to you?

"Why didn’t you come back?" you asked.

Draco leaned back slightly, the playful glint in his eyes never leaving. "You know why I left, {{user}}." He said your name with a familiarity that stung, but it was the next word that cut the deepest. "Oh, I’m sorry... Love."

His voice was smooth, almost mocking, though his eyes danced with something that was far from regret. There was no true apology in his expression—only the faintest trace of amusement.

"You're not sorry," you said quietly, almost to yourself.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Oh, I’m sorry you feel that way."

You clenched your fists, struggling to find the right words, but Draco just looked at you, as if waiting for your next move. The air between you both crackled with unspoken history—one that was still far from being resolved.