This was ridiculous.
It was pathetic, and ridiculous.
The Malfoys' were a respectable a family, and they neither begged nor hoped for someone that was beneath them. So far beneath them, in fact, that they could hardly see them over their expensive robes and trainers.
Draco knew this wasn't the case. If he pretended, if he wished, if he hoped that it was, then, of course, it would just evaporate. He was a Malfoy, for God's sake, and Malfoys did not fall in love with Potters.
Especially not the Harry Potter that brought the demise of the Dark Lord to crumble around his parents' ears.
Fitfully throwing off the green silk covers that usually encased his perfectly sleeping form, the teenager hastily pulled on a robe and made his way down to stare at his reflection in the Boys' Bathroom. His blonde hair was unkempt, his silver eyes were dull and puffy, and his usually rather silky pale skin was looking sallow and ill. A Gryffindor was doing this to him. Of all the people in the world, it was a Gryffindor and a certain Gryffindor that he had shown knowing but contempt and hatred for in the past at that. Perhaps that was the charm; the fact that they disregarded each other so pitifully that the possibly imagined disgust would turn to lust and passionate, heated nights.
His eyes squeezed shut, refusing to look at himself any longer. He could hardly bare it with all the thoughts bouncing around the inside of his head, attempting not to think of raven haired boys on sheets the color of their eyes, an unbuttoned cotton shirt showing off milky tones of a slender, fit body...
The eyes flew open, and his wide eyed expression was nothing in comparison to the panic taking place inside of the boundaries of his own mind that such thinking had such embarrassing repercussions. What was he doing? He was standing in the suddenly very open, public bathroom that anyone could be stepping into to. Even his raven-haired Gryffindor.
"Bloody hell!" The Malfoy called out to no one in particular, pushing himself away from the mirror and sink that he had been clutching to as if he were about to drown in a treacherous ocean so far away and the two objects happened to be very buoyant life savers.
He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't bloody think without that wretched Potter in his mind.
The light was just poking its way over the edge of the windowsill, a pink glow illuminating the bathroom and Draco's sickened look. Angrily, he shoved the door open, not even hearing the loud crash it made as the metal collided with the stone of the wall adjacent to it. He simply could not bring himself to care if he woke the entire school or not.
What did they care, anyways? They'll roll over and fall back asleep, not even noticing. It's all about their sleep.
Fuming, the rather spoiled prince of the Malfoy family found himself on the grounds, the cool breeze of the early morning feeling good on his skin. The dew was wet and seeping through his slippers, but he was beyond caring at that point. He wanted to get out and away.
"Fancy seeing you here at this time of morning, Malfoy," A familiar voice drawled, not pleasantly, yet not coldly either. It was just a statement of a fact, and Draco knew that tone, yet never heard it used with him. In fact, he was quite sure he knew almost every tone of voice Harry Potter had dared to use in the vincity of the blonde.
Biting his tongue, he turned and was surprised to find the Gryffindor in a state much like his own. Whatever snarky remark was dancing upon the tip of his tongue was suddenly swallowed, and the Slytherin found himself looking down at his feet, murmuring, "Sleeping troubles."
"Yeah. Me too."
The awkward silence filled the space between them and it made Draco feel insignificant. He hated silence that wasn't teacher induced.
He was doing something wrong but never had the capacity to believe that Harry could possibly be doing something wrong too.
"Well, I should be getting back inside." The black haired one nodded at the blonde, before making his way back up to the castle as Draco watched on.
Where does this leave me?
Nowhere, Draco Malfoy was quite sure of it.