So this is my first attempt at making a story, so don't be too harsh. Though I will expect criticism. But yes, OOCness. Sorry. x]
Disclaimer: I don't own harry potter, draco malfoy, magic and all that shit. JK Rowling does. If I did, there would be mansex and all that kind of stuff.
Enjoy!---------------------x---------------------
He sat observing the fireplace, his silver eyes flashing with held in emotions as the flames crackled dangerously amongst the kindling.
Draped in a vulnerable yet regal way along the living room chair, he replayed his life silently in his battered mind.
Clutching the glass of half finished firewiskey in his elegant hand, he waited.
Another night again
Another journey without friends
Another fight to wish away the loneliness I live
The mask comes back up. His eyes harden into calculating slits as he walks. One such as him turns such a simple act into art, the graceful sway of his hips, to the strides.
Which are so firm, yet so soft, it's as if he's dancing. The media pestered him the most.
The shrieking voices, the way they snooped on his every day activity, trying to catch him with his 'hand in the cookie jar' so to speak. Why wouldn't they just understand, he'd changed?
Another circus show
Another face that I don't know
Another night of people asking what I have to give
I thought that I would drown
But it's OK right now
Every night was torture, from the moment he closed his eyes and let sleep veil itself along his consciousness. The nightmares were relentless. Acts of evil, impure.
He felt by just becoming a part of the dreams, he was committing an unforgivable sin. So he lingered.
Sitting in his bed, he stubbornly refused sleep to enter his itching mind. 'Harry, I need you...'
The whisper, so silent it drifted off through the air, but so loud it echoed along the walls. Where was his saviour when he needed him?
No one knows the way I feel a part of me I have to fight
Buried somewhere deep beneath my skin
The emptiness in me is faded
And I can see my life is waiting
Now I know I'm living for who I am
No longer he could sit and wait for his 'knight in shining armour' to pick him up and steer him on the right path.
To hell with his publicity, he needed Harry.
On the night of the full moon, he ran. In only his pyjama bottoms, he glided through alleyways, down streets and across fields.
His lungs burned, his heart screamed. But he kept on going. Looking back on such a night, he realized how stupid he'd been.
Apparating would of been such a simpler option. Maybe he needed the thrill, of running for his loved one.
The fire grows inside
The feeling cannot be denied
And everywhere I turn the size of guys they push me
And all has fallen down
But it's OK right now
Harry lay awake in bed that night, curious and lost. He felt like something big was going to happen, yet he was at a loss as to why.
Sliding out of bed he trudged out of his bedroom into his living room, depositing himself gracefully into his chair. The silent 'tick' of his clock kept him company as he watched his front door.
His green eyes shone brightly in the moonlit room as he waited what he felt like would change his world.
No one knows the way I feel a part of me I have to fight
Buried somewhere deep beneath my skin
The emptiness in me is faded
And I can see my life is waiting
Now I know I'm living for who I am
He stood in front of Harry's door, hunched over as he regained steady breath, and studied the door with fearful eyes.
He hadn't thought this through. Shakily standing up to full height, he gulped in a breath.
Where had this unfathomable fear grown from? He was stronger than this.
Hardening his gaze, he nodded once to himself and raised his hand, knocking against the wood heavily and felt his eyes moisten up. He only hoped that he wouldn't be turned away.
And everything seems great and everyone is fake
No one really knows you
Look into their eyes
Rip off your disguise
Let them see the real you
Harry had almost fallen asleep when a sharp rap on his door startled him to alertness. Raising an eyebrow questionably, he stood up and wandered over to his door, grasping the handle and swinging the door open. What greeted him caused his breath to hitch and his shoulders to tense.
'Draco...'
The boy stood with his arms woven around his body as he bit his lip and gazed into green pools, shifting uneasily on the spot.
'..Look, I know we've never gotten along, and I know how much of an asshole I've been but, my father..'
He darted his gaze away for a second before looking back up, silver shining so brightly it almost hurt Harry to look into the others eyes.
He did the only thing he could think of.
He reached out, and pulled Draco in for a mouth bruising kiss.
He finally understood.
**
Gazing down at the unruly mop of dark hair, Draco cracked a smile. It was 3:00 AM, four hours from his original bedtime. Winding his long fingers into Harry's hair, he fondly played with the strands of ebony locks and leant back against the headboard. It had been 5 years since that night.
And yet he still remembered it like it was yesterday.
Harry with his head resting on Draco's chest, let out a small purr and snuggled closer. With a silent laugh, Draco shifted further down into their bed, getting comfortable as he slowly closed silver eyes. Since then, sleep had become a pleasant experience. He no longer dreamt of screaming and bloodshed.
He was with his saviour.