Don't speak, I know what you're thinking, so please stop explaining, don't tell me cause it hurts.
- 'Don't Speak,' No Doubt

Draco leaned far out of the window; the freezing winter night winds failed to bring any colour out of the pale, tear-streaked cheeks. His stomach felt like it was filled with lead, and his mind was a blazing inferno in his icicle body. No one was allowed to see him cry, only the pastel moon, who would never breathe a word to anyone. Never would his father see him like this. Even if he did, he would feel no remorse for the pain he had caused his son, his own flesh and blood. But not his own heart. Draco's heart would never be like his father's. Draco's heart knew how to love another. Draco slid to the floor and closed his slate gray eyes. He drifted off into sweet dreams of an emerald-eyed angel.

A servant found Draco in the same spot the next morning. She nudged the boy awake. Draco opened one sleepy eye and glared at the maid. "Master Lucius wishes to see you in his study, sir." The maid murmured, almost shaking under the force of Draco's glare. He grunted and got up. Ignoring the maid, he walked the short distance to his father's study. He entered through the large oak doors and nodded his head in a formal greeting.

"Yes?" Draco inquired. He flinched at the sight of his school bag sitting on his father's desk. Lucius held up a dried, blood red rose with two bony fingers. Draco stiffened.

"Where did you get this, Draco?" The elder Malfoy asked calmly. Draco responded quickly and evenly.

"Pansy Parkinson." Lucius stood abruptly and slammed his fist down on the ebony desk.

"DON'T LIE TO ME, BOY!" Lucius was seething. "WHO GAVE YOU THIS?!" He roared. Draco glared. He slammed his own hands onto the desk.

"Harry Potter, okay!? Happy now? I'M DATING HARRY POTTER! I FUCK HIM EVERY BLOODY NIGHT! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!" Draco screamed, his face flushing. Lucius struck his son hard across the cheek. Tears spilled out of Draco's eyes. He was no longer afraid to let them run freely. He was free.

"You are forbidden to see Potter ever again. And stop crying, you pathetic weakling. I'm ashamed to call you my son." Lucius' voice was cold, colder than pure ice. Draco pulled away from the desk.

"Then don't call me your son. I never want to see you again. Ever. I am ashamed that I ever looked up to you, cruel bastard." Draco spun on his heel and stalked out of the room before his father could respond. Lucius stared dully at his former sons retreating back, as he slowly crushed the fragile flower.

As soon as he knew his fath- Lucius- couldn't see him, Draco broke into a run. He ran towards his room, where he grabbed his cloak and wand, and apparated to Harry's house.

The green eyed wizard jumped out of his chair as someone apparated into the room. He calmed down when he saw it was Draco. The blond boy wrapped Harry in a tender hug, and kissed his lover gently.

"Hello to you, too, Draco." Harry murmured, smiling softly. Draco pulled Harry closer to him, so Draco's lips were touching the other man's ear.

"Marry me, Harry. Please. I Love you." Draco whispered. Harry caressed Draco's back.

"Yes." That was all Harry could say. 'Yes.' Draco kissed Harry again.

"That, my love, is the most beautiful word in the universe." Draco smiled, a rare smile only Harry saw. "Just like you."

Awwww… in'it cuuuute!