Hmm this is just a weird piece of fic that suddenly popped up in my head.
It's unbeta'ed so all mistakes are mine.
Title: Cold (lack of a better name *g*)
Author: Dutchess Leetje
Email: leetjuh@xs4all.nl
Summary: Harry is sort of being angsty, hehe.
Rating: PG
Paring: Harry/Draco
AN: I'm Dutch, and definitely not a writer. So hopefully it won't be too bad to read ;)
I don't think he ever really loved me.
At one point he might have cared for me but in the end he still left.
He never said it, not once. Not even when we lay together in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I would whisper "I love you" in his ear but he never said it back, not once. All he did was kiss the top of my head and hold me in his strong, yet soft arms.
I used to think that he wasn't taught how to love, he is a Malfoy. Malfoy's don't love, love is a weakness to them. I thought I could make him love me, but I was wrong.
I was a fool to believe that my love would break down his walls.
He left me on a Sunday morning. I woke up alone in my bed, feeling nothing but cold space beside me. He didn't even say goodbye and it hurt. Was I ever more than just a good fuck to him? Did he even consider that he would hurt me a lot by leaving so suddenly without any explanation at all? Or did he consider it and thought it would feel great to make the great Harry Potter fall in love with him and then stamp over his heart because he was Draco Malfoy and it gave him some sort of sadistic pleasure?
I want to scream at him, yank him by his beautiful golden locks and throw him across the floor. I want to beat him into a bloody pulp for making me feel this way. For making me feel so lonely and lost without his constant presence around me. I want to hate him so badly for hurting me but I can't. I still love him and I despise myself for it.
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. Still no word of him.
My friends all say that I should get over him, but I can't. He has gotten a permanent place in my heart and it's impossible to get him out. They won't accept this and tried to set me up with other guys but I turned down every single one of them. They are not him. No one can ever compare to him.
They don't understand he could be very caring when he wanted to or not. Like the way he would gently tuck me in if I felt ill or just cold. Or when he accompanied me to visit my parents' graves, and he would just hold my hand and squeeze it reassuringly, not saying anything as I mourned for my parents. When I remember moments like these, I begin to wonder if I did somehow broke down parts of his cold shield.
If only he'd stayed. We could have been so happy in the end. I still wish he'd come back to me.
There's a knock on my door. I open it slowly and there he is. I drop my hand in shock and just stare at him. I dare not to believe he's really there, that he came back to me.
His appearance changed a bit in the months we've been apart. His hair is slightly longer, reaching just past his shoulders and I long to run my fingers through the silky strands. I look up into his face and I see the sad expression in his eyes. I missed looking into his beautiful grey eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but then quickly closes it again, obviously at a loss for words.
My heartbeat quickens, and I feel a spark of hope.
We stare at each other for a few more minutes in awkward silence. Then he sighs and tries to speak again. He tells me he's sorry that he left me. He tells me he left because he needed to sort out himself. He thought that he didn't deserve me, I gave him everything while he couldn't give me the same in return. He tells me about his father and his teachings. How he was taught to be a cold and cruel bastard, but how that changed when he met me. He tells me I stirred emotions in him that he'd never felt before. They were so overwhelming that he didn't know how to handle it, and so he left.
I take it all in and suddenly I understand. I close the distance between us and pull him for a deep, passionate kiss. Then he says it. He tells me that he loves me and that he'll never leave again. I smile and sink into his embrace.
So whatcha think? ;)
Title: Cold (lack of a better name *g*)
Author: Dutchess Leetje
Email: leetjuh@xs4all.nl
Summary: Harry is sort of being angsty, hehe.
Rating: PG
Paring: Harry/Draco
AN: I'm Dutch, and definitely not a writer. So hopefully it won't be too bad to read ;)
I don't think he ever really loved me.
At one point he might have cared for me but in the end he still left.
He never said it, not once. Not even when we lay together in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I would whisper "I love you" in his ear but he never said it back, not once. All he did was kiss the top of my head and hold me in his strong, yet soft arms.
I used to think that he wasn't taught how to love, he is a Malfoy. Malfoy's don't love, love is a weakness to them. I thought I could make him love me, but I was wrong.
I was a fool to believe that my love would break down his walls.
He left me on a Sunday morning. I woke up alone in my bed, feeling nothing but cold space beside me. He didn't even say goodbye and it hurt. Was I ever more than just a good fuck to him? Did he even consider that he would hurt me a lot by leaving so suddenly without any explanation at all? Or did he consider it and thought it would feel great to make the great Harry Potter fall in love with him and then stamp over his heart because he was Draco Malfoy and it gave him some sort of sadistic pleasure?
I want to scream at him, yank him by his beautiful golden locks and throw him across the floor. I want to beat him into a bloody pulp for making me feel this way. For making me feel so lonely and lost without his constant presence around me. I want to hate him so badly for hurting me but I can't. I still love him and I despise myself for it.
Days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months. Still no word of him.
My friends all say that I should get over him, but I can't. He has gotten a permanent place in my heart and it's impossible to get him out. They won't accept this and tried to set me up with other guys but I turned down every single one of them. They are not him. No one can ever compare to him.
They don't understand he could be very caring when he wanted to or not. Like the way he would gently tuck me in if I felt ill or just cold. Or when he accompanied me to visit my parents' graves, and he would just hold my hand and squeeze it reassuringly, not saying anything as I mourned for my parents. When I remember moments like these, I begin to wonder if I did somehow broke down parts of his cold shield.
If only he'd stayed. We could have been so happy in the end. I still wish he'd come back to me.
There's a knock on my door. I open it slowly and there he is. I drop my hand in shock and just stare at him. I dare not to believe he's really there, that he came back to me.
His appearance changed a bit in the months we've been apart. His hair is slightly longer, reaching just past his shoulders and I long to run my fingers through the silky strands. I look up into his face and I see the sad expression in his eyes. I missed looking into his beautiful grey eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but then quickly closes it again, obviously at a loss for words.
My heartbeat quickens, and I feel a spark of hope.
We stare at each other for a few more minutes in awkward silence. Then he sighs and tries to speak again. He tells me he's sorry that he left me. He tells me he left because he needed to sort out himself. He thought that he didn't deserve me, I gave him everything while he couldn't give me the same in return. He tells me about his father and his teachings. How he was taught to be a cold and cruel bastard, but how that changed when he met me. He tells me I stirred emotions in him that he'd never felt before. They were so overwhelming that he didn't know how to handle it, and so he left.
I take it all in and suddenly I understand. I close the distance between us and pull him for a deep, passionate kiss. Then he says it. He tells me that he loves me and that he'll never leave again. I smile and sink into his embrace.
So whatcha think? ;)