Author's Notes: This story contains suggestions of slash and a couple scenes are mentioned. DO NOT FLAME ME FOR IT! I WARNED YOU! Well, please read and review at the end. I am very proud of this story and would like to know what others think. Thanks! ~Kala

Summary: Harry reflects on his current situation with Draco. Why they are together and why they continue on with the dangerous game that they play. For it is a dangerous game, this addiction of theirs.

Addiction

You would think that it would bother us, the fact that I might die, but we pretend. Pretend and elude, but only ourselves. Us. Draco and I together in a so-called relationship. When we are together, nothing else matters. Nothing else exists. When our lips meet in a frenzied kiss, our worlds crash down around us, leaving us in a world all our own. It is in this wonderful place that we exist. Together. It is in this existence that we make love, we fuck. Frenzied and passionate. Slow and tender. Always explosive, always.

When we come together, 'good' and 'evil', the air around us crackles. It burns with energy. And it is then that we forget. Forget everything. The war, our friends, our lives, nothing matters. Nothing except us. I suppose you could say that we have a sort of co-dependency on each other. Once we forget, we don't want to remember. We don't want to go back to our lives. Why would I want to go back to being The Boy Who Fucking Lived? I don't. I never do.

After we part, our worlds begin to pull us back to reality. Wrap themselves around us with a force that leaves us gasping for breath. Smothered. Vulnerable. How much more of this can we stand? How much longer can our bodies hold out? How many more times can we be pulled back to reality in one piece? We know that we should end it. Stop this losing of our worlds. It is a dangerous game that we play, eluding our own minds. Forcing ourselves to forget. It's like an addiction.

It's an addiction that we will never lose. Some recover from addictions. We won't. It's as simple as that. I know it. He knows it. If someone tries to separate us, keep us apart, we will die. Wither and die. Die and wither. Leave this world, for good. We can not be separated. Our lives depend on our 'meetings', even if they are dangerous. The danger is exciting. We bask in it, the knowledge that this could destroy us. Destroy us from the inside before it ever moves to the outside. What would it matter? The only time we are alive is when we are together. It's ironic. We only exist when with the one we hate.

What is hate? Hate. Love. Passion. Lust. They are all connected. So maybe we don't hate each other anymore. Maybe. Maybe we love each other. Who knows? Not us, that's for sure. When we meet, it is a mixture of all of these emotions. Every emotion we have ever felt comes back. Hate and love. Passion and lust. Joy and despair. They all return, stronger than ever before.

No one knows how the first meeting occurred. No one, except us. Only us. All that they know is we continue to meet. Not a day goes by that we don't. Like I said, it's an addiction. An addiction that no one else could possibly understand. They are all different. None of them have been truly effected by the war. Not really. Most of them have never even seen Voldemort. We have, on many occasions. They will never understand what we have lived through. They see the world in black and white. Good and evil. Love and hate. They will never understand. For us, the world is gray. There is no black and white. There never was.

They see the world through rose-tinted glasses. Not us. We look it straight in the eye. It's like alcohol; if you take too much, it will poison you. Blacken your heart and kill you. The only difference is the world blackens your soul. It rips you apart and leaves you to die, empty and alone. But we have each other. Even if this addiction is dangerous, it is also what saves us. It is what keeps us from ending our lives. We keep each other alive. So, for the time being, we will bask in our addiction. Savor it. Love it. Live it. We will let it control us. Let it guide us. Let it destroy us. For it is what allows us to forget, and that is more precious than life itself. Life is nothing. A meaningless existence full of suffering and pain. Pain and suffering. But when we are together, that is life. At least it is what life should be. Our own Utopia. A state of euphoria. So, yes, we continue our dangerous game. It is what we live for. Our addiction.