Draco stood riveted, watching those pools of green fire as they regarded
his raising hand. More then ever those fiery wells seemed to hold a quiet
sorrow. A trembling softness when they were alone together that made him
seem so soft and naive. Yet there was nothing naive anymore about the Boy
Who Lived. Harry had faced all there was that existed in the crushing
darkness of the night. Voldermort was dead and with him so many friends and
comrades. Draco had thought him a Gryffindor fool before the battle for
having so many people close to him. Friends and comrades were just wounds,
pawns to be strewn across a bloody field. Bleeding infectious wounds that
ate at your soul and consumed you even after you fucking saved the world.
Draco had told Harry all those people were a mistake. He was mistake. Frantic grey eyes had met green, demanding to know why after all was said and done it was Draco that he claimed to love. Harry had just smiled at him wickedly and shown him. Draco had been so terrified at first of showing his feelings.
His hand stopped just above Harry's cheek. Suddenly afraid of himself, Draco stopped himself from touching that softness. Quidditch calloused hands wavered tentatively as he gazed into those waiting green eyes. Everything about Draco was hard and cold. Empty for everyone except for the man before him. Harry's cheek was warm, so warm. Draco's rough fingers were barely brushing the soft invisible hairs of his face yet he still felt the warmth radiating from him. The warmth from his face and the fire in his eyes seemed to consume Draco.
Draco narrowed his eyes, hardened with emotion. To afraid to say the words dancing in his heart. He began to pull away from Harry a hand to rough and dirty to touch something so precious. Harry caught his hand before it could return to the cold safety of its owner body. Lacing gentle warm fingers through limp cold ones he drew Draco's hand up to his cheek. Harry pressed the coldness into his warmth, willing Draco with sad eyes to stay.
A puzzled quietness filled Draco. Softly he pulled his hand away, disengaging Harry's hold on his hand. Before Harry had time to let his eyes fill with his quiet hurt, Draco turned his hand over. He reached back where Harry's now limp hand and been and stroked that warmth with the soft backs of his fingers. Grey eyes left green so they could follow the path his hand traveled, tracing the contours of jaw and cheek.
A rustle of clothe as Draco took one hesitant step forward. Draco could feel the pulsing heat of Harry's body through the robes that shrouded them both. His hand dropped to his side and he heard Harry suck in a sharp breath. The movement caused their pressed together chests to rock a little. His face dipped closer as their eyes closed, sensing the inevitable. Without sight all Draco could sense was the warmth of Harry's lips just before he brushed them with his own. Then there was nothing but abandon.
Draco drowned then. Slipped into the liquid pool of love and tenderness. That overwhelming wave that told the Harry that Draco loved him back. Then Draco was gone and all that remained was that kiss and that moment and Harry fucking Potter.
Draco had told Harry all those people were a mistake. He was mistake. Frantic grey eyes had met green, demanding to know why after all was said and done it was Draco that he claimed to love. Harry had just smiled at him wickedly and shown him. Draco had been so terrified at first of showing his feelings.
His hand stopped just above Harry's cheek. Suddenly afraid of himself, Draco stopped himself from touching that softness. Quidditch calloused hands wavered tentatively as he gazed into those waiting green eyes. Everything about Draco was hard and cold. Empty for everyone except for the man before him. Harry's cheek was warm, so warm. Draco's rough fingers were barely brushing the soft invisible hairs of his face yet he still felt the warmth radiating from him. The warmth from his face and the fire in his eyes seemed to consume Draco.
Draco narrowed his eyes, hardened with emotion. To afraid to say the words dancing in his heart. He began to pull away from Harry a hand to rough and dirty to touch something so precious. Harry caught his hand before it could return to the cold safety of its owner body. Lacing gentle warm fingers through limp cold ones he drew Draco's hand up to his cheek. Harry pressed the coldness into his warmth, willing Draco with sad eyes to stay.
A puzzled quietness filled Draco. Softly he pulled his hand away, disengaging Harry's hold on his hand. Before Harry had time to let his eyes fill with his quiet hurt, Draco turned his hand over. He reached back where Harry's now limp hand and been and stroked that warmth with the soft backs of his fingers. Grey eyes left green so they could follow the path his hand traveled, tracing the contours of jaw and cheek.
A rustle of clothe as Draco took one hesitant step forward. Draco could feel the pulsing heat of Harry's body through the robes that shrouded them both. His hand dropped to his side and he heard Harry suck in a sharp breath. The movement caused their pressed together chests to rock a little. His face dipped closer as their eyes closed, sensing the inevitable. Without sight all Draco could sense was the warmth of Harry's lips just before he brushed them with his own. Then there was nothing but abandon.
Draco drowned then. Slipped into the liquid pool of love and tenderness. That overwhelming wave that told the Harry that Draco loved him back. Then Draco was gone and all that remained was that kiss and that moment and Harry fucking Potter.