Stacked with: Shipping War and T3
Representation: Depression, anxiety
Ship: Draco/Harry
List (Prompt): Medium 1- Admiring the View
Word Count: 529
The wind blows in through the open window, candles flickering, and a few strands of Draco's blond hair rise and fall with the fluctuating gusts. He's the epitome of beauty right now, Harry thinks, the way he's resting his chin on his hand as he stares out at the street, lost in thought. The candles cast a warm glow over his otherwise pale skin, the flames reflected in his grey eyes.
Harry briefly wonders whether he should ask what Draco's thinking about. He opens his mouth, taking a breath to speak, but the words won't come out. He closes his mouth with a click and looks out the window.
There's nothing interesting on the street, nothing new, from what Harry can see from his place across the table from Draco. Still the same trees, still the same pavement, the same grass.
Maybe Harry would understand if he could see what Draco could see, he thinks, a weight settling in his chest that he doesn't understand.
They sit there without speaking, the candles flickering between them, dinner left completely untouched.
I love you, he thinks, throat closing up as he swallows the words down before they can find their way past his lips.
The sky cracks open, thunder and lightning making Harry jump, but he doesn't miss that Draco doesn't even flinch. Instead, he smiles ever-so-slightly, tilting his head to the side and taking it all in as if transfixed. Harry can understand that, because he's transfixed with Draco.
The candles are blown out by an especially strong gust of wind. Harry feels his stomach twist at suddenly being plunged into darkness, only the light of the ever-darkening sky to see by, and his only reprieve is that the shadows cast on Draco's face make his breath catch in his throat.
The rain starts low, so low that Harry can barely hear it, until it seems as though he's blinked and suddenly, it's pouring. The direction of it shifts, slanting and managing to slip through the open window and onto the floor. The sound of the water dripping onto the hardwood floor of their dining room draws Harry out of his thoughts.
"We should probably close the window," Harry wants to say, but he doesn't.
Draco stands, as graceful as ever as he abandons their dinner altogether, and opens the window further. He braces his arms on either side of the window, getting wet and not seeming to care as he takes it all in. The rain spills onto the floor faster. Harry laments it for a moment before he stands as well, picking up his untouched plate and placing it in the sink.
"Shut the window and go outside if you want to play in the rain," Harry wants to bite out over his shoulder.
He doesn't.
Draco's liberated, unabashed laughter follows him down the hall as he walks to their bedroom.
"Potter, where are you going?" Draco calls after him once he realizes Harry's left, confusion evident in his voice, words stabbing at Harry's heart.
Harry doesn't answer, shutting their bedroom door behind him with a soft click. For once, Harry has nothing to say, nothing at all.