Italics are Draco, both in the lyrics and paragraphs. This was supposed to be decidedly less fluffy but apparently I don't want to write angst today. -_-;
Yes, this is a song-fic. I swore I wouldn't do another one but....

Disclaimer: I do not own the story Harry Potter, nor do I own its characters. I do not own the song 'Breath' by Breaking Benjamin, and I did not ask permission to use the song. I own the plot, and the word order, only. No money is being made from this.

I see nothing in your eyes
and the more I see the less I like
is it over yet
in my head?

He wasn't sure when he first glanced over and had to take a second look. If asked, he couldn't say what compelled him to look over again the next day, and then the day after that. He couldn't tell you his reasoning for his shifting emotions; his confusion.

He couldn't tell you, until they ran into each other in the hallway, and he got his first good look at him in years. He couldn't tell you why he cared exactly, but he didn't like what he saw.

I know nothing of your kind
and I won't reveal your evil mind
Is it over yet?
I can't wait

He didn't understand him. He never had, really. The glares and the sharp tongue all did nothing but baffle him. He blamed it on curiosity when he was hexed and didn't tell who it was. He said he was interested; that's why he was caught glancing over so often. He waved off the questions and the worry, eyes narrowed as he watched.

So sacrifice yourself, and let me have what's left.
I know that I can find the fire in your eyes.
I'm going all the way, get away, please.

He didn't like what he saw. He didn't like the way those eyes, usually so full of passion, were empty. He didn't like how the sneer fell flat of its usual caliber. He didn't like the fact that he knew the look more intimately than he wished.

He hated the fact that he was worried. He didn't like the way he was brushed off at his attempts to bring back that powerful emotion that always drew them together, or the way he struggled to even be acknowledged now. But when they flared to life, briefly but there none the less, all he could do was smile at the confused look through his bloody lip; he loved that he was the only one to make him react.

You take the breath right out of me.
You left a hole where my heart should be.
You got to fight just to make it through,
'cause I will be the death of you.

He knew it was foolish for them to get involved but he couldn't help himself. As the days flew by into months and their relationship changed drastically all he could do was hold on for the ride. It was the worst thing he could do when he let the first kiss happen.

People were in danger around him. He tried to keep friendships to a minimum and now here he was, falling for the one person that it was prudent he didn't fall for. He gave a sharp laugh at the bitter irony. It was foolish, but then again, he had always been called a fool.

This will be all over soon.
Pour salt into the open wound.
Is it over yet?
Let me in.

He was miserable. The expectations were getting to be too much and he knew he was approaching the point of no return with no plan. He didn't want to but there was no choice and so, little by little, he removed himself from the world around him. Emotions became a foreign thing to him; it was easier this way when he talked with the man with the cold eyes. Without his emotions right and wrong became blurred and suddenly he knew exactly what he would do.

It would be simple; he had no real friends to miss him. It would be easy, so long as he stayed in his own world and remained distanced. Things are never as easier as they sound though, and before he knew it he was opening himself back up to the worst person possible, and running even faster to the end. The only difference was that he wasn't alone this time, and suddenly he didn't mind so much.

So sacrifice yourself, and let me have what's left.
I know that I can find the fire in your eyes.
I'm going all the way, get away, please.

When the war started it was with them beside each other, two children frightened by what they were expected to do. Scared that they would fail; terrified that they would succeed. When he was told of the plan be protested vehemently; he showed more emotion that night than he had in years.

He was shot down. They didn't care what could happen to them; they wanted the fight over and done with. He was appalled, he was angry, and he was petrified at the thought of what the future could bring. They talked that night, more than they had before. When the morning came, neither could be found.

You take the breath right out of me.
You left a hole where my heart should be.
You got to fight just to make it through,
'cause I will be the death of you.

It wasn't easy to stay quiet at the frantic voices calling for them. It was even harder when the random curses started flying; when the shouting began. They gripped hands tightly; fear mirrored in both sets of eyes and huddled together under the brush as people thundered above them. When it was quiet they were up and running, leaping over fallen bodies as they headed away from the sounds of dueling.

When they were away, staring in slight shock at the vast expanse of ocean before them they had turned to each other in slight surprise. A silent question hung in the air between them before a grin stretched across their lips. With a wild laugh they boarded the boat and were gone.

I'm waiting, I'm praying
realize, start hating.

They adjusted as quickly as expected to their new life. They were still frightened children but now there was an undercurrent of thrill. For once they were doing what they wanted; no strings to tug them in any direction. He glanced beside him, worrying his lip.

He still waited for the day they would realize what they were doing and who they were with. He waited for the animosity to return, for him to be ejected once more from the life he had created. He waited to be unwanted yet again. Yet as the years passed and his fears were not realized, they faded away slowly, until they were but wisps of a silly childhood memory from long ago.

When he died it was surrounded by the same person who had been there beside him through it all and nobody else. He didn't need anyone. His hand was grasped tightly as it had been all those years ago and fear was once more echoed in their eyes. His breath was ragged and his hand quivering but he smiled up and they smiled back, tears starting to stream softly down their cheeks. "I love you." The tears were blinked away as a throat was cleared. "I love you too."

The voice was harsh from tears but neither noticed as they stared at each other in silence; in comfort. The one on the bed sighed shakily and a small smirk appeared. "Scared, Potter?" He gave a choked laugh, smoothing back light blond hair and running his thumb over his cheek tenderly. He gave a fake scoff, the effect ruined by the fond smile on his face. "You wish Malfoy." He laughed softly, eyes shut, and Harry shook as they did not open again. No, he wasn't scared.

He turned as the door was burst down and the people stopped abruptly. "Harry?" The witch said, disbelief coloring her words as the male behind her gaped wordlessly, wand lowering in surprise. He simply smiled and downed the bottle he had been clutching tightly. Why would he be scared of being alone, when it would last but a moment? He fell forward as they rushed to his side, still cradling a pale hand gently. With a soft moving of lips, Harry Potter died. He had chosen to abandon his friends for Draco; choosing death over life was even less of a choice.

You take the breath right out of me.
You left a hole where my heart should be.
You got to fight just to make it through,
'cause I will be the death of you.