Disclaimer: Yeah yeah, the sky's blue and I don't own HP. Got it.
A/N: Another drabble. Because I'm just too lazy to write an actual fic xD

looking

I saw you last night—you were sniffling, as if you were trying to keep yourself from crying, and you couldn't seem to stop shivering. I wanted so much to come out and hold you, comfort you, reach out to you…but no. You would only turn me away (and that's why I always watch—just watch).

It's always been that way for me; for the both of us. I could look, but not touch; not when it came to anything other than insults and physical harm. Because, hey: you're Ron Weasley, and I'm Draco Malfoy, and we can't be anything but mortal enemies, can we?

It's not like you need my attention, anyway, or my comfort. You have Potter and the Mud—Granger; after all, the Trio is always there for each other, and you never need anyone else for long.

And I suppose, after all that time I spent watching and looking, but not acting, I'd maybe forgotten how to act around you. So I guess that's why, when you turned to me for the first time with something other than hatred in mind, all I did was stare until you walked away.

After that, you disappeared; and after years of seeing but not touching, I finally stopped looking.

.finis