-My Song-
"You don't love me anymore!"
Harry's eyes burned into Draco's as he voiced the numbing and heartbreaking truth he had come to accept over the past few weeks. They had been arguing nonstop lately, and tonight had finally pushed them over the edge.
Draco had completely ignored him, again, at the party and then had the nerve to be angry at Harry once they had returned back to their flat. Ten minutes of yelling back and forth had thrown the humiliating and distressing reality into Harry's face, and it burst out of him with such ferocity and inner truth that he couldn't stand keeping silent any longer.
"What?" Draco breathed, completely thrown off balance. "How could you possibly say that?"
"Because it's true," Harry said quietly. "You--you don't love me. It's okay." Harry winced as his voice cracked horribly. "Really, I get it. I mean, who could actually love me anyways?" He gave a painful laugh. "Who could love a freak?"
Harry turned away so he could better avoid Draco's gaze, walking over to the dresser as he did so. He started removing the cufflinks from his shirt, trying to ignore how his hands were shaking and he could barely stop his vision from blurring due to unwanted tears forming. He had just managed to calm himself down a little, to start breathing again, when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and warm breath on his ear. He tried to pull away, but Draco wouldn't let him, forcing him to hear what he had to say, the words whispered softly in Harry's ear.
"My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming. I love not less, though less the show appear. That love is merchandized, whose rich esteeming the owner's tongue doth publish everywhere. Our love was new, and then but in the spring, when I was wont to greet it with my lays, as Philomel in summer's front doth sing, and stops her pipe in growth of riper days. Not that the summer is less pleasant now, than when her mournful hymns did hush the night, but that wild music burdens every bough, and sweets grown common lose their dear delight."
Draco paused to turn Harry around, so that he could look the man in the eye as he finished his declaration.
"Therefore, like her, I sometime hold my tongue, because I would not dull you with my song."
Harry stood still, looking into Draco's eyes, feeling his fingers gently rub against his cheeks, even as he unconsciously leaned his face into their warmth. He tilted his head forward, so that their foreheads touched, and brought his own hands up to clasp together behind Draco's neck. Taking a deep sigh, Harry took in Draco's words of reassurance and barely whispered his reply, though to Draco, it came out loud and clear.
"I love you, too."
Fin.
Author's Note: The poem Draco quotes is Shakespeare's Sonnet 102. Thank you for reading.
