Title:
Everything we had
Disclaimer:
It's called fan-FICTION for a reason, you know.
N/A:
I'm not a native speaker,
remember? Please forgive the minor details, it still do not have a
beta, and if there's any mistake you believe is worth pointing out,
please do. Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.
The small
cut-ins in italics are from the songs "After the last Midtown
Show", "The Test" and "Everything we had", by The Academy
Is… .
I actually wrote this all while listening to "After
the last Midtown show" over and over again, but once I had
finished, I realized the lyrics didn't quite have a connection with
the story, and "Everything we had" does fit the storyline better.
I recommend listening to "After the last Midtown show" while
reading, (I actually recommend listening to every song by The Academy
Is), and once you are over listen "Everything we had", and it
will all make much more sense (at lest it works that way for me).
EVERYTHING WE HAD
It wasn't as though he had a choice; there was really no other way. If it had been up to him, he would have never picked the option where he had to leave, but Harry had learned that things hardly ever resulted as he wanted.
He knew it wouldn't be an ugly break up; there would be no tears, no screams, no insults or words of anger, and that was what would make it even harder for him to do it, because he knew Draco would let him go. Because it was the right thing to do.
The apartment was cold, even though it was mid-July and it was almost 80 degrees outside. It could have been Harry's imagination, but he felt as though it was snowing inside; maybe it was his heart, which was slowly losing temperature, until it would finally freeze and stop beating- Because there was no reason for his heart to beat if it didn't beat for Draco.
As he reached the bedroom, where he was sure he would find the blonde, he started questioning how he was ever going to make it without his lover. He had gotten so used to having Draco by his side that he could not even remember what it was like to be single.
He had accustomed to share a bed, to shower accompanied, to cuddle after sex and to receive a good-morning kiss, no matter how nasty their breath could be. Draco and Harry had habituated to a type of life they both knew they couldn't have, and it had felt so right, so real, that they had almost convinced themselves it wasn't in fact wrong. How could it be?
Harry knew how, and that was what hurt him the most. They were meant to be in love, but also meant to be apart. They simply bore no chance in beating destiny, and they both knew the end would finally come, they just didn't know it would be so soon.
Right
here, the best days of our lives.
Is this coincidence or a
sign?
Is there anything I missed?
Is there anything I
missed?
Tell me if I'm wrong,
but why would we change a
thing?
"Hey there," Harry whispered as he sat on the side of the bed where Draco pretended to sleep, "Got any sleep?"
He asked, even though he knew the answer. He could tell it from the way the other breathed, from the way his chest went up and down hurriedly, as if Draco was crying. Was Draco crying?
In the four years they had been together, Harry had not once seen Draco cry. He had seen him mad, furious, depressed, miserable, but the blond had never shed a single tear. He used to say crying helped developing wrinkles, and there was nothing in the world worth growing wrinkles. Maybe he had changed his mind.
"What time is it?" Draco asked in a gloomy voice.
He held the sheets tight against him, grabbing them firmly, as if they where some kind of protection, as if covering his nudity also guaranteed some kind of guard. They were tangled between Draco's legs, and Harry found himself to be somewhat jealous, not of the sheets it selves, but of the space they occupied, that would soon be filled by someone else, a replacement of what Harry couldn't be, or wasn't allowed to be.
"Five, maybe six pm," He replied without looking at his watch, just to try and stop thinking all that stuff that made it harder for him to go.
"You should leave before twilight. It's safer."
"I know," Harry said and he leaned forward to kiss Draco.
His lips where cold, and trembled a bit, as if Draco was a little kid holding back a sob, but he replied to the kiss anyway, not eagerly, but warily, as if it was the first kiss they ever shared, as if he was afraid it would drag him in. As if he wasn't already in, and too deep to ever get out.
They both knew, just as they started, that once it happened there was no turning back. They had both seen the end from the very first kiss, and they knew once they fell, there was no way of getting back up. Because you fall in love, but you can't fall out of love; you may move on, find someone new, but you never get over it, you never forget. The feeling starts fading in your mind sooner or later, but never in your heart, and you carry the emptiness inside you everywhere you go for as long as you live. The wounds eventually heal, but the scars are left for life. Harry and Draco knew so, and embraced the consequences of their acts willingly from the beginning, as much as it would hurt, because they loved each other, and they loved each other too much not to take a chance on it, even if they both knew it would fail. They had been flying around together for a while, and it was time to get back down.
'Let's imagine the end before we even begin', you said.
They kissed softly for a while, not caring about time or space, just about them, just about then, and nothing else, and neither of them realized when the other started crying, but the kissed turned wetter and wetter until they finally separated, their foreheads leaning against each other.
"It will get better," Harry murmured with his eyes closed.
"But it'll never be okay."
Harry sighed at the words, because he knew they were true, and there was really no point denying them to try and make Draco feel better, he already know it wouldn't work. They both were very aware of how things would be after Harry closed the door and left for good, and they both had prepared themselves for it.
"I love you, you know" Draco whispered to Harry's ear and kissed him one more time before turning his back to him.
The words hit Harry harder than he thought, not only because it was actually the first time the blonde said them out loud, but also because he knew they were Draco's way of saying goodbye. They where the hint that told Harry it was time to leave now, it was time.
The sound of the door shutting close was the only detonator Harry needed for his cries to start. He wept like a baby as he stumbled across the hallway on his way out, with a sharp pain on his chest. And it hurt even more than he had predicted, and he needed all of his self-control not to crawl his way back to bed with Draco. It hurt, it hurt but it was right, it hurt and it felt wrong. He's eyes burned from the tears as he stepped away from there, away from his love, away from everything he ever wanted.
His whole body ached, it ached in need; as and addict's body aches for heroine, his ached for Draco. The one place that didn't hurt was his chest, but it felt somewhat empty, as if it was missing something. Harry realized he wasn't heartbroken now everything had ended; it wasn't his heart that had broken into pieces. It was him, the whole him, that was wrecked like a shattered mirror.
Back in their room, correction, in Draco's room, the blonde remained lying in bed, still naked and his body aching from the cold, eyes fixed on the ceiling and hands on his sides. His eyes where red but he wasn't crying, not anymore. He lifted one hand languidly and placed it on his chest, which was feeling rather cold, as if something sharp had been shoved upon his heart and ice-blood had started bursting out. It didn't hurt, though. His heart was doing okay, but the rest of his body was sore, and Draco realized just then. It is not the heart that breaks when the love of your life leaves you with no return; it's the whole body that breaks into pieces, a million pieces that get lost and are never to be put back together. Meanwhile, the heart is torn in two, and doesn't know whether to stay or to run away, to run after it's other half, the half that left and abandoned; the half that's still with Harry.
It
was the only place I'd never known.
Turned off the light on my way
out the door.
I will be watching wherever you go,
through the
eyes of a fly on the wall.
