A companion piece to 'Underneath Your Clothes'. This was actually requested but I (being the perpetual bitch) accidentally deleted the e-mail, so I'm very sorry, but you know who you are. This is for you, enjoy!
Here we take a look at Draco's thoughts on his relationship with Harry. R&R!
Sinking
As I round a corner, I feel compelled to sigh. Deeply. The sigh of someone sinking into an eternal pit of despair. God, this gets frustrating. Oh well, might as well get it over and done with.
Here we go.
"Oh look," I say monotonously, bored as sin. "It's the mudblood, the Potty and the Weasel." Oh this is getting so very old.
"Shut up!" Oh look, Weasley's vocabulary has expanded from 'fuck off' and you know what they say. A change is a good as a holiday.
"My my, originality galore."
Perfect Granger hops nervously from foot to foot. I could show her nervous.
"Ron-"
"Aw, protecting your boyfriend."
That's when our eyes meet. Boyfriend. I suppose we are, on some abstract level, although I will always detest the label. I really do fail to see how something like you and me can be categorised.
"-ret face!" Weasley finished angrily. I unwillingly flush. Cheap shot.
"Once again, a startling display of Weasley originality, hard to find anywhere else. In shops now for only four Sickles, which, let's face it, is more than he's ever likely to have seen before-"
"Malfoy!" Oops, I've touched a nerve with Granger. Naughty me.
As the meaningless comments are flung back and forth like mud, my mind lazily trails through what is, at least to me, perfection in human form, Perfection that is standing not six feet from me at this very moment in time, looking delicious, as always.
You know I'm sorry. Don't you? Yes, you must. You know I'm sorry. I find myself thinking of us a lot now. I'm not convinced that it's quite healthy, but how can I not?
I trust you.
I trust you enough to let you see past my oh-so-carefully-constructed persona. I feel vulnerable in doing so, but to be quite frank, it's total crap that Malfoy's never show weakness or emotion.
Is being servant to a master not a weakness? Is anger, is hate, is passion not an emotion?
Is... is love not an emotion?
I do love you. I know you don't believe I can, but here I am, Draco Malfoy, in love. I must tell you that. I really must. Before I sink totally.
Before you doubt and don't believe. Or worse.
Before you realise and say it first.
You are the first person I have loved. I mean, I obviously love mother and father, but you are the first person I have been in love with. You are the first person I have loved in the total, all encompassing way.
As granger takes you away to help repair Weasley's damaged ego, you look at me with an emotion that I can never decipher. I just look blankly back at you.
But know that I love you. Know that I always will love you. And know that right now, there's a ring in my packet that hopes you love me too.
Here we take a look at Draco's thoughts on his relationship with Harry. R&R!
Sinking
As I round a corner, I feel compelled to sigh. Deeply. The sigh of someone sinking into an eternal pit of despair. God, this gets frustrating. Oh well, might as well get it over and done with.
Here we go.
"Oh look," I say monotonously, bored as sin. "It's the mudblood, the Potty and the Weasel." Oh this is getting so very old.
"Shut up!" Oh look, Weasley's vocabulary has expanded from 'fuck off' and you know what they say. A change is a good as a holiday.
"My my, originality galore."
Perfect Granger hops nervously from foot to foot. I could show her nervous.
"Ron-"
"Aw, protecting your boyfriend."
That's when our eyes meet. Boyfriend. I suppose we are, on some abstract level, although I will always detest the label. I really do fail to see how something like you and me can be categorised.
"-ret face!" Weasley finished angrily. I unwillingly flush. Cheap shot.
"Once again, a startling display of Weasley originality, hard to find anywhere else. In shops now for only four Sickles, which, let's face it, is more than he's ever likely to have seen before-"
"Malfoy!" Oops, I've touched a nerve with Granger. Naughty me.
As the meaningless comments are flung back and forth like mud, my mind lazily trails through what is, at least to me, perfection in human form, Perfection that is standing not six feet from me at this very moment in time, looking delicious, as always.
You know I'm sorry. Don't you? Yes, you must. You know I'm sorry. I find myself thinking of us a lot now. I'm not convinced that it's quite healthy, but how can I not?
I trust you.
I trust you enough to let you see past my oh-so-carefully-constructed persona. I feel vulnerable in doing so, but to be quite frank, it's total crap that Malfoy's never show weakness or emotion.
Is being servant to a master not a weakness? Is anger, is hate, is passion not an emotion?
Is... is love not an emotion?
I do love you. I know you don't believe I can, but here I am, Draco Malfoy, in love. I must tell you that. I really must. Before I sink totally.
Before you doubt and don't believe. Or worse.
Before you realise and say it first.
You are the first person I have loved. I mean, I obviously love mother and father, but you are the first person I have been in love with. You are the first person I have loved in the total, all encompassing way.
As granger takes you away to help repair Weasley's damaged ego, you look at me with an emotion that I can never decipher. I just look blankly back at you.
But know that I love you. Know that I always will love you. And know that right now, there's a ring in my packet that hopes you love me too.
