The wind came from the south and tousled the nearly white blonde hair of a young man who lay on a bed of green, starring up at the inky black sky, occasionally marred by gashes of white. The grey eyes that the youth possessed were nearly vacant, holding only that unmistakable spark of life. Another whisper of wind caressed him, this time causing the black robes he wore to rustle some, covering up the sound of another set of robes rustling as someone walked towards him, but even if he had heard it the teenager wouldn't have moved to look; he knew who it was.
"Heroes are painted in the sky," he whispered as the person who approached him sat down next to him.
"Myth," the person with hair the color of midnight replied.
"I believe it." The blonde's newly acquired companion stayed silent, and he moved for the first time, inclining his head to the side some to stare at him. "Do you think you're already up there?"
The other boy clenched his hands into a fist. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, his voice slightly rough with emotion, raw and wanted to spill out like fluid spilling from a cracked jar.
"Sometimes lovers are woven with stars."
"What the fuck do you want Draco?"
The boy paler than the moon looked back up at the sky and his windows dripped with water. "Why did you come?"
There was a moment of silence so dense that butterflies would find it difficult to soar. "Because..," the other boy's voice faltered, but then he pressed on determinedly. "Because you asked me to." He looked down at the blonde young man and wrapped his arms around his own stomach, as if to prevent himself from touching the person who he could share the night sky with.
"Harry," came a soft whisper from pale pink lips and the one who sat turned his head sharply towards that voice. "I want to be a star." The green-eyed both continued to watch those pink lips, knowing not to interrupt what could be a beautiful confession. "I want to be a part of the black canvas, stretching until the dawn. I want to be painted with you." Arms that held the body they were sewn on to clutched the torso tighter. "Harry," he whispered again.
"Draco?"
"Please hold me."
The black haired boy chocked back a relieved sob and scooped up the lithe body that lay down into a warm embrace.
"It'll be over tomorrow," Harry whispered.
"I know," Draco said sadness laced into his words. "And then we can spend an eternity in the sky."