He paced. Tension evident in his every step, he paced. Worry and fear swirling through his every thought, he paced. This wasn't right, something was wrong, why wasn't he awake yet? He paced.
The crystal glass smacked against the bar and he splashed a healthy dose of firewhisky into the fine cup. In an instant he washed the whiskey down with another glass of its own kind.
Then he paced. It was three hours after his usual awakening, and yet he slept still. Why did the man still sleep?
His heart tripped in fear and guilt. Why wasn't the raven haired beauty awakening?
Draco paced his study, his nerves near to breaking with the tension. The urge to check in on Harry was nearly overwhelming. The spell he had renewed the night before, the healing spell, had not been triggered. Which meant that Harry had not awakened and moved out of his cubby.
Suddenly another fear gripped him. What if Harry had never made it into his cave? What if Harry had gotten attacked there on the edge of the cliff?
Then he remembered the great pleasure Raiden had gotten from watching the stars, and hoped with every fiber of his being that they had simply not returned to the depressing cave, had traded the dark interior of the cave for the brilliant star-strewn night sky.
Yes, Draco decided, that had to be it. That just had to be. He simply could not live with any alternative.