Draco was like super sick and ugly as fuck, but Harry didn't care. She loved him even when he was covered in vomit, though she would never admit it. Draco was annoying yes, but he had his own way of caring.
Draco was sick, really sick, and it was very unlikely for him to live. Harry warned him to not to go out on such a stormy night, and now he is running a high fever of 103. We all knew Harry was not done with his crying done just yet.
Harry began to leak through her eyes, her face unable to show the emotions she was feeling. This bully, my enemy, my love, my soulmate. Harry crawled onto her dying lover and hovered her chin over his nose, gently pressing her chapped lips onto his warm smooth ones.
The geeky brown haired girl grabbed a knife off of the shelf next to the bed. She gently split open wrist to elbow on both arms. The girl shrieked as her arms bled onto her lover. The blonde's eyes peeled open and blood became to drip from her eyes. Harry let me body fall to the floor, hitting the floor with a huge bang.
The tall blonde wiped his eyes, in which he thought were tears. He grabbed his lover from the floor and pulled her onto the bed and onto his lap. He cradled her in his arms, gently kissing her neck. "I don't deserve you in my life, Harry," Draco whispered, in a soft raspy voice.