Draco found himself watching the conflict in Harry's face. The boy seemed to be trying to decide between two choices with either one causing a great consequence. Draco knew the look well. He'd seen it on his father and mother's faces often. I wonder what he's so conflicted about….Look at the way he mouths his problems, as though no one can see him. I wonder if he knows that he's moving his lips…I shouldn't have let him drink so much last night. I bet he's upset about it. His thoughts swirled around the guilt and he sighed heavily.
He opened up the book again and reburied his face in it. A few moments later, he saw Harry get up out of the corner of his eye. The green-eyed lion went to the bags lying on the ground and shifted through them. Draco's eyes rose up just slightly over the book as he watched Harry bent over the bags, searching for clothes to wear. Draco allowed himself to look, because knew he'd never be allowed to touch.
Then again, he was rather eager last night, the part of Draco's mind that was truly Slytherin spoke up. No! Stop it! That's like date rape or something! Draco spat angrily at the Slytherin part of him, if I did that I would be just as bad as he think I am! Draco felt like curling into a ball and crying, but instead decided to rebury himself in Shakespeare's words. He silently read the next sonnet on the page.
"Sonnet 61:
Is it thy will, thy image should keep open
My heavy eyelids to the weary night?
Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,
While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?
Is it thy spirit that thou send'st from thee
So far from home into my deeds to pry,
To find out shames and idle hours in me,
The scope and tenor of thy jealousy?
O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great:
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake:
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,
To play the watchman ever for thy sake:
For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,
From me far off, with others all too near."
Funny. Is this some movie or something? I must be the character who conveniently reads something that applies to his situation. Ha ha. Very funny Shakespeare. You knew I would exist, didn't you? Fucker. Draco thought miserably as he finished the sonnet. He sighed loudly, but decided to read the notes they put at the end to make things easier to understand (not that he needed to, mind you).
"Here, Shakespeare has a man deeply in love, narrating the poem to his lover. At first the poet accuses his beloved of jealously spying on him, saying that she (or he, who really knows?) is keeping him awake. Though later he admits, that it's his own jealous that keeps him awake. He says: "O, no! thy love, though much, is not so great: It is my love that keeps mine eye awake…" If written in modern text the word "my" would be italicized, because he is admitting that it isn't her love, but his love that keeps him awake. He says he wishes for her to be near, instead of others that are near. Accentually, this sonnet's narrator admits that he is jealous and wishes for his beloved and also that she does not love him as he loves her."
Draco felt even more like crying than he did before. He curled his legs up in the chair, laying his head on his knees. He wrapped his arms around his legs as he often had when he was very young. The book was squished between his chest and his legs, but he didn't care. He was shuddering all over in his effort to not cry like a girl.
"I finally meet someone who seems to give a shit," he shakily said into his knees, "And it has to be like this. He's so delicate. I'd break him if I poked his side. And I know he's just right. He's just perfect! He's so caring and sweet. He practically immediately dropped the hating and fighting. Oh my god! Uuuuggghhh!"
Draco let out a strangled cry and hot, thick tears began pouring down his face. He knew it should be so simple. He should be able to like Harry and go for him, but he was so afraid that he'd lose the only person that had ever been genuinely kind to him. He was shuddering and crying and could barely breathe. Suddenly a hand touched his arm and he jumped in shock, his head snapping up. Harry's concerned eyes were on him, water dripping from his hair.
"Why are you crying?" he asked softly.
"Because of this!" Draco shouted, seizing Harry's shirt and yanking him forward.
He crashed his mouth hungrily into Harry's. He nipped at Harry's bottom lip, growling in a predatory way as he pulled away. Harry's face was filled with shock and wonder.
"I think I'm falling in love with you, Harry Potter," Draco answered the unasked question in Harry's eyes, "And you're just going to have to deal with it."
A grin broke out across Harry's face.
"Thank god," he whispered, "Now do that again."
Draco hardly had time to grin before Harry attacked his face, eager to encourage round two. Draco responded eagerly and it wasn't too long before they were gasping for breath, though refusing to pull away for longer than a few seconds. Finally, Draco reluctantly pushed Harry away, gasping and sputtering.
"We'll die if we don't breathe," He gasped out, "So eager for a virgin."
Harry blushed, turning his head away from Draco. He started to back away, but Draco grabbed him and kissed him again.
"It's cute!" Draco whispered, "I love it. And I'd not have you any other way."
The blush that had temporarily left Harry's face returned full force.
"O-o-oh," he sputtered, "Y-y-you luh-like va-virgins?"
Harry's face got impossibly redder as he uttered the last word.
"No, you silly man," Draco whispered, putting his forehead against Harry's, "I like you."
Harry's eyes cast down bashfully.
"Then you can have me," Harry whispered so quietly, Draco was unsure he heard it.
"Do you mean…?" Draco let the question hang unfinished in the air.
Harry's eyes lifted to meet Draco's. They were filled with fire and passion.
"Yes," Harry answered, "But not now."
Draco felt disappointment and relief fill him like a balloon.
"Harry, I don't want to pressure you," Draco said softly, "You could-"
Harry put a finger to Draco's lips.
"Let's not talk about it now," Harry murmured, "I just want to sit here for a while. Wait for the reality to hit me. Then I'll probably go into shock. You'll have to revive me by throwing cold water on my face. Then I'll never believe you saying that this actually happened."
"Then you like me?"
"Duh."
Draco visibly relaxed. Oh thank goodness. He smirked thinking, well, obviously he likes me I'm handsome, intelligent and rich. What's not to like?
"Really proud of yourself, aren't you?" Harry's voice pulled him from his mental pat on the back.
"Quite," he answered, before pulling Harry into him again.
They kissed forever, their lives meaning nothing. It was only each other that they were concerned with. Only each other and the other's damn kissable lips. Each other and the other's wonderful hair. Each other and the other's amazing smoldering eyes. The world could have exploded into dust and neither would care. Sure they'd realize to some degree, but as the rubble fell around them they'd only cast a protective charm and continue the senseless snogging.
They rivaled Romeo and Juliet, they rivaled Rose and Jack, they rivaled Fred and Wilma (why were all these couples heteros?). The sun envied their brightness as it gazed lazily at them through the curtains. And somewhere Shakespeare was looking down, smirking at them. Draco briefly thought of all this before returning to all Harry thoughts. And to think this was all because he was in a pinch, he thought in amusement.
Little note: That's the end, my dearies. Midnight, Stubborn, and Dacy, I'd love to see you in the sequel! It's going to be called "With a Pinch". Thank you all so much for your support and love! I couldn't have done it without you guys, especially you three that I mentioned! Love you all!