Draco's hands always looked cold to Harry. Draco curls them, fingers pale and thin, around a steaming mug of coffee, a Muggle affectation he picked up during the war. Some mornings he doesn't even drink it; he just sits consuming the warmth and the scent.
Harry wanders in, half-asleep and dreaming of breakfasts at the Burrow. When he awakes, he'll remember that the Burrow is gone. Only Ginny survived, writing on the walls of her room at St. Mungo's. But for now, he is just a young man in the kitchen with his lover, whose kisses taste of coffee.
