disclaimer: not mine.
warning: mushy slushy slash.
dedication: to augustus, teehee.
~~Pretend.
The rain was turning to sleet and then to snow before their eyes, and the snowflakes drifted lightest on the taller boy's silver-blond hair, sparkling weakly. A week before, the other boy would've taken the opportunity to lick the snow off the blond's nose, but now, that seemed like something from a different lifetime. Funny how different you can be, with only one new piece of knowledge in the balance.
"You're going to take it back now, aren't you," Draco said dully, staring off into the distant, grey horizon, not letting himself sigh. "You've seen my wrist haven't you? You can't pretend anymore, Potter."
His inner vision matched his outer, and everywhere, it was turning rather muddled. Still, there were things he was certain of: in specific, that the things he was certain of before no longer applied. He wanted to kiss the one beside him one last time, on principle. To know the taste one more time, before it faded.
He didn't move. He liked the way it hurt to keep his lips pressed together, more and more tightly. He concentrated on that, and ignored the way his hands and cheeks and thighs were cold, no matter what spells he used, these days. Ever since--
The only thing that helped was Harry's leg or hand or breath, brushing against his, most often accidentally. He was going to have to start pulling back any moment now.
"What are you talking about? Pretend what?" the serious boy beside him asked, finally, not looking at his companion either.
"You know. I always knew. I knew it was a mistake, but no, you had to be the stubborn Gryffindor about it, of course. I knew it would come to this, you know."
"You think-- You think I'm going to-- You think I'd do that?"
The unruly mop on his head rearranged itself flippantly as it whipped around.
"I don't need to think. I know."
"Well, obviously, you don't know anything, which isn't actually surprising, Malfoy," the tired-looking boy said, his voice tight and restrained.
"Are you trying to argue with me? Because I really don't need to go through this. I know exactly how it's going to go. You're going to be indignant and accusatory and betrayed, and I'm going to be reminded why I knew this was a bad idea to start with, and the next time we'll see each other, one of us will see a little green light, and so on. It's kind of a like a bedtime story I've told myself the past few months, so trust me, I know how it ends."
"You really are a bloody idiot, you know that, Malfoy?" Harry said, laughing mirthlessly in a sudden burst of hoarse noise.
"Yeah," the slim-hipped blond boy said, getting up in a single fluid motion.
He'd turned away, seeming seconds away from moving, except he wasn't. Harry couldn't bring himself to break this open even now, to break himself open and offer the raw bleeding insides as collateral, to make yet more promises when his previous ones obviously meant so little. He was done with making fruitless gestures. Malfoy was going to have to wake up on his own, he told himself.
"So. What are you waiting for? I'm not going to stop you, Malfoy. You're free to do as you wish, and if that means you leave, well then, you leave."
"Lie to me. Lie to me, Harry. God, if you just said it-- if you just told me-- it wouldn't matter. None of it would matter."
"Isn't it a little too late for this, by your own estimation?" Harry said, as lightly as he was able.
"Right. All right, I guess I know your answer, then."
"Oh, do you. And I guess you don't know anything, asking me to lie when I've told the truth already, you bloody clueless bastard!" Harry was a breath away from springing up and shaking Malfoy in frustration, but that was best left in the realm of old habits laid to rest. Even if only since last month.
"You-- told--" Draco still hadn't turned around, but his shoulders heaved, once, his hands balling into fists by his sides. "If you think this is funny--"
"I've never lied to you, Draco. Make of that what you will," Harry said, getting up, brushing past the boy now staring at him and blinking quickly, still sneering.
Draco stood there, staring at Harry's fast-retreating back.
"Oh," he breathed, and started running, leaving narrow footprints in the snow.
~~
warning: mushy slushy slash.
dedication: to augustus, teehee.
~~Pretend.
The rain was turning to sleet and then to snow before their eyes, and the snowflakes drifted lightest on the taller boy's silver-blond hair, sparkling weakly. A week before, the other boy would've taken the opportunity to lick the snow off the blond's nose, but now, that seemed like something from a different lifetime. Funny how different you can be, with only one new piece of knowledge in the balance.
"You're going to take it back now, aren't you," Draco said dully, staring off into the distant, grey horizon, not letting himself sigh. "You've seen my wrist haven't you? You can't pretend anymore, Potter."
His inner vision matched his outer, and everywhere, it was turning rather muddled. Still, there were things he was certain of: in specific, that the things he was certain of before no longer applied. He wanted to kiss the one beside him one last time, on principle. To know the taste one more time, before it faded.
He didn't move. He liked the way it hurt to keep his lips pressed together, more and more tightly. He concentrated on that, and ignored the way his hands and cheeks and thighs were cold, no matter what spells he used, these days. Ever since--
The only thing that helped was Harry's leg or hand or breath, brushing against his, most often accidentally. He was going to have to start pulling back any moment now.
"What are you talking about? Pretend what?" the serious boy beside him asked, finally, not looking at his companion either.
"You know. I always knew. I knew it was a mistake, but no, you had to be the stubborn Gryffindor about it, of course. I knew it would come to this, you know."
"You think-- You think I'm going to-- You think I'd do that?"
The unruly mop on his head rearranged itself flippantly as it whipped around.
"I don't need to think. I know."
"Well, obviously, you don't know anything, which isn't actually surprising, Malfoy," the tired-looking boy said, his voice tight and restrained.
"Are you trying to argue with me? Because I really don't need to go through this. I know exactly how it's going to go. You're going to be indignant and accusatory and betrayed, and I'm going to be reminded why I knew this was a bad idea to start with, and the next time we'll see each other, one of us will see a little green light, and so on. It's kind of a like a bedtime story I've told myself the past few months, so trust me, I know how it ends."
"You really are a bloody idiot, you know that, Malfoy?" Harry said, laughing mirthlessly in a sudden burst of hoarse noise.
"Yeah," the slim-hipped blond boy said, getting up in a single fluid motion.
He'd turned away, seeming seconds away from moving, except he wasn't. Harry couldn't bring himself to break this open even now, to break himself open and offer the raw bleeding insides as collateral, to make yet more promises when his previous ones obviously meant so little. He was done with making fruitless gestures. Malfoy was going to have to wake up on his own, he told himself.
"So. What are you waiting for? I'm not going to stop you, Malfoy. You're free to do as you wish, and if that means you leave, well then, you leave."
"Lie to me. Lie to me, Harry. God, if you just said it-- if you just told me-- it wouldn't matter. None of it would matter."
"Isn't it a little too late for this, by your own estimation?" Harry said, as lightly as he was able.
"Right. All right, I guess I know your answer, then."
"Oh, do you. And I guess you don't know anything, asking me to lie when I've told the truth already, you bloody clueless bastard!" Harry was a breath away from springing up and shaking Malfoy in frustration, but that was best left in the realm of old habits laid to rest. Even if only since last month.
"You-- told--" Draco still hadn't turned around, but his shoulders heaved, once, his hands balling into fists by his sides. "If you think this is funny--"
"I've never lied to you, Draco. Make of that what you will," Harry said, getting up, brushing past the boy now staring at him and blinking quickly, still sneering.
Draco stood there, staring at Harry's fast-retreating back.
"Oh," he breathed, and started running, leaving narrow footprints in the snow.
~~