nb: rating upped for norty language and themes in this chapter.
---
He stands in the shadows on the edge of moonlight and darkness.
Is it where he belongs? No. He belongs in my arms. But never in the light.
A vision in black leather and pale hair that's covered in a thin layer of even paler snow.
How long has he been standing here in the cover of the night??
I fight the temptation to call him a bastard for leaving me. The temptation to hit him and hurt him as much as he's hurt me. I fight the temptation to rugby tackle him down on to the gazebo floor and shower him with kisses.
I fight temptation, and walk over to him.
"Draco."
***
Draco calmly met Harry's green gaze.
"Hello, Harry."
"Where have you been?" Harry launched himself towards the taller man, enfolding him in a tight, loving embrace as if never to let him fade away again. The reaction he got was not the one he expected. Draco didn't hug him back, nor reciprocate his feelings. He stepped backwards slightly and narrowed his stone eyes into cat-like slits.
"Did you save me some cake?" Was his quiet qeustion.
"My dragon, you can have all the cake in the world! Pet, you can have anything you want I'll get it for you - you know it!"
"Anything but our wedding cake." Came the reply, eyes still staring at Harry, unfeeling, almost glacial. And suddenly, something in Harry snapped. There comes a point where a person can take only so much pain.
"You left me! Okay? YOU left ME, Draco Malfoy. YOU were the one who refused to join the Order of The Phoenix with me and find redemption as an auror. YOU were the one who was too afraid to defy his bastard father. While you went prancing about the world as a deatheater I was left feeling like you'd taken my heart, stomped on it and fed it to Voldemort. And you think you can just come here on my wedding night and fuck up my life again?!" Harry's voice was hoarse with screaming and yelling.
"Do you love her?"
Tears welled in the infamous deatheater's eyes, clouding his vision. His lover was now a dark blur of raven hair and black suit, silhouetted against the lights from the banquet.
"Do you love her? Huh? Does she make you feel the way I do? Does she love you as much as I do?? Does she love you enough for it to hurt?" His own voice was hoarse with tears now. "Because for the past three years all I have felt, is this pain in my chest. And every time I see a picture of you or hear about you or even have a memory of you, it hurts me more than any curse ever could. And each day I can't be with you or have you, I die a little bit more. Believe me, lover, I've suffered too."
"Oh yeah like hell you've suffered! Fucking hell Draco, what do you know about suffering!? Huh!? How can you say you've suffered and even compare your feelings to mine?? And how dare you come here and call me lover! I hate you!"
Harry stepped forward and started pounding angrily at Draco's chest, breaking down and crying openly. He let out all his frustration in each hit, and Draco just stood there and took it. Harry's sobs increased and his blows to Draco became slower, until they finally ceased and he collapsed slightly against Draco, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. Draco just stood there. He looked down at the angry mess of raven hair that leant against him. Slowly, his arms came around Harry, his lips gently kissing the top of Harry's head.
Harry looked up at the face of the only one he could ever love, emerald green through dark wet lashes.
And suddenly they were a tangle of limbs and lips and hands. Fingers raking desperately through hair, mouths meeting in a molten fusion of passion and longing.
And they both melted together into the shadows.
***
Gods how I've missed this. No matter how sweet Ginny's kisses are, it's never the same as his. Draco tastes like he always did; in his kisses are traces of expensive champagne and citrus and apple. Maybe I'm rambling, but Draco has this amazing effect on me.
His scent is intoxicating. It's like musky cologne and a rainy day and first snow and mountain mist. Yeah, all mixed together. For someone so tainted he smells so pure.
I find solace in his arms. They surround me, the pressure of them around my frame from them telling my mind and body that every thing is all right. That while I'm there nothing can harm me. Funny, isn't it? That the Boy Who Lived only truely lives when he's in the embrace of his lover who just happens to be a deatheater. Draco's not the only one dying.
For three years I've been feeling dead all ready.
----
more coming soon. thankyou for the feedback *^_^* *blushes*. yes, i don't endorse the ginny/harry pairing either _
---
He stands in the shadows on the edge of moonlight and darkness.
Is it where he belongs? No. He belongs in my arms. But never in the light.
A vision in black leather and pale hair that's covered in a thin layer of even paler snow.
How long has he been standing here in the cover of the night??
I fight the temptation to call him a bastard for leaving me. The temptation to hit him and hurt him as much as he's hurt me. I fight the temptation to rugby tackle him down on to the gazebo floor and shower him with kisses.
I fight temptation, and walk over to him.
"Draco."
***
Draco calmly met Harry's green gaze.
"Hello, Harry."
"Where have you been?" Harry launched himself towards the taller man, enfolding him in a tight, loving embrace as if never to let him fade away again. The reaction he got was not the one he expected. Draco didn't hug him back, nor reciprocate his feelings. He stepped backwards slightly and narrowed his stone eyes into cat-like slits.
"Did you save me some cake?" Was his quiet qeustion.
"My dragon, you can have all the cake in the world! Pet, you can have anything you want I'll get it for you - you know it!"
"Anything but our wedding cake." Came the reply, eyes still staring at Harry, unfeeling, almost glacial. And suddenly, something in Harry snapped. There comes a point where a person can take only so much pain.
"You left me! Okay? YOU left ME, Draco Malfoy. YOU were the one who refused to join the Order of The Phoenix with me and find redemption as an auror. YOU were the one who was too afraid to defy his bastard father. While you went prancing about the world as a deatheater I was left feeling like you'd taken my heart, stomped on it and fed it to Voldemort. And you think you can just come here on my wedding night and fuck up my life again?!" Harry's voice was hoarse with screaming and yelling.
"Do you love her?"
Tears welled in the infamous deatheater's eyes, clouding his vision. His lover was now a dark blur of raven hair and black suit, silhouetted against the lights from the banquet.
"Do you love her? Huh? Does she make you feel the way I do? Does she love you as much as I do?? Does she love you enough for it to hurt?" His own voice was hoarse with tears now. "Because for the past three years all I have felt, is this pain in my chest. And every time I see a picture of you or hear about you or even have a memory of you, it hurts me more than any curse ever could. And each day I can't be with you or have you, I die a little bit more. Believe me, lover, I've suffered too."
"Oh yeah like hell you've suffered! Fucking hell Draco, what do you know about suffering!? Huh!? How can you say you've suffered and even compare your feelings to mine?? And how dare you come here and call me lover! I hate you!"
Harry stepped forward and started pounding angrily at Draco's chest, breaking down and crying openly. He let out all his frustration in each hit, and Draco just stood there and took it. Harry's sobs increased and his blows to Draco became slower, until they finally ceased and he collapsed slightly against Draco, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. Draco just stood there. He looked down at the angry mess of raven hair that leant against him. Slowly, his arms came around Harry, his lips gently kissing the top of Harry's head.
Harry looked up at the face of the only one he could ever love, emerald green through dark wet lashes.
And suddenly they were a tangle of limbs and lips and hands. Fingers raking desperately through hair, mouths meeting in a molten fusion of passion and longing.
And they both melted together into the shadows.
***
Gods how I've missed this. No matter how sweet Ginny's kisses are, it's never the same as his. Draco tastes like he always did; in his kisses are traces of expensive champagne and citrus and apple. Maybe I'm rambling, but Draco has this amazing effect on me.
His scent is intoxicating. It's like musky cologne and a rainy day and first snow and mountain mist. Yeah, all mixed together. For someone so tainted he smells so pure.
I find solace in his arms. They surround me, the pressure of them around my frame from them telling my mind and body that every thing is all right. That while I'm there nothing can harm me. Funny, isn't it? That the Boy Who Lived only truely lives when he's in the embrace of his lover who just happens to be a deatheater. Draco's not the only one dying.
For three years I've been feeling dead all ready.
----
more coming soon. thankyou for the feedback *^_^* *blushes*. yes, i don't endorse the ginny/harry pairing either _