Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, or Draco, and perhaps it's best I don't, because I would make them write extremely terrible poetry to each other.
Warnings: The poetry, oh. Be warned.
That Fire
Kill me with your cruelty,
But your attention's like a kiss.
I never thought that I
Would fall in love like this.
xx
Locked in a battle of wills;
Both of us craving the win.
But I look at your mouth, think about how it would feel
To have those lips on my skin.
xx
Insult me, with that aforementioned mouth
Hurt me to the best of your ability.
Glare at me, but I notice your eyes
Are beautiful, and grey, and stormy.
xx
Shake myself awake: stop daydreaming
About those eyes being blank with desire
One of us has shoved the other: lost control of
That indefinable, untameable fire
xx
A flurry of kicks and fists and hurt
And now we're down on the floor.
You're above me, body pressed against mine
And all I can think, inexplicably, is More.
xx
Something changes, subtly shifts
My heart begins to race.
Silence, and the whole world stops turning
As I reach up and gently caress your face.
xx
Your eyes are open now, soft, wondering
Something in them a lot like desire.
But before I can think of how strange this all is
Your lips find mine.
Your kiss is full of fire.
Harry stared at the page. There was a reason he didn't write poetry. He got weird and imaginative and started writing romantic, strange things.
What was this, anyway? What was he writing? The only person he knew with grey eyes was-
Oh, damn.