Okay. I am a lazy bastard and this was a short blurb just for fun. I had a random inspiration and I couldnt help myself.
Harry Potter and co. do not belong to me. If they did, I would be too filthy rich to be writing this.
Love,
You are a chameleon. Have I ever told you that? I guess it does not really sum you up. Not really. God I become so inarticulate when I am faced with you. You drain the intelligence from my head and replace it with raw emotion. The name of that emotion may change but the intensity remains stationary.
I lie here, half sheltered and half trapped by your presence, and wonder who really lies behind your beautiful face. I have seen so many faces sculpted from your very features, and have often wondered which was the true face, the genuine expression. When it seems you have finally settled on one, you shuck it like dead skin and reshape yourself into something new.
Favorite is your 'sleeping' face. I have come to believe it is your canvas, it is your only constant. Once, I found the blank expressionless visage intimidating. It was as if even in sleep you chose to hide yourself from me. It made you seem unreachable, immortal. I felt insignificant next to your nothingness. I really think I still do, but something perverse within me finds comfort in its predictability.
I guess I am your only other constant. I know you have other lovers. Hell, there is no attempt at keeping them secret. But I also know that you rarely return to them. You never claim them. They are mere diversions, outlets for your passions. I know I am not entitled to the same benefits. I learned the hard way of your aversion to sharing.
Today, you were insecure. You needed to be assured that I was a solid, that I was not going to vanish. You merely clutched me, reassessing my tangibility. You know I will never leave you. You wouldn't let me if I wanted to. But you wont have a choice.
Damn it Draco I love you. But I think we need some space.
-Harry
The curled parchment fluttered down to rest upon Harry Potters chest. The boy who lived. The savior. The corpse.
And for the first time since Draco could remember, Draco cried. Draco regretted. Draco loved.