A Small Buzzing Noise

A/N: I was looking through my documents trying to find a vampire story I had written, which was completely unrelated to Harry Potter (because I actually made up my own characters. I would say I made up my own plot, but everything's been done already.) Anyway, this pretty short, as you can tell. It's kind of like Harry's journal entry (if he had kept one, anyway).

Summary: Harry's thinking about his life and Draco. Rated R for some barely-there inappropriate thoughts.

Rating: R

Reviews? Yes please. :)


I can't stop thinking about him. The way his skin gives this electric shock that runs the course of my body every time he touches me. His sweet kisses beneath the moon, his strong hands holding me, making me feel safe.

Two months have driven by. He fills every empty space in my mind. My food turns to nothing in my mouth; my friends' conversations have turned into a small buzzing noise, similar to the sound of a radio that has lost its signal. There is room for nothing else.

We have imaginary conversations in my head; his reactions completely made up by me, but the reactions are well thought out. I knew him well enough to anticipate his words and actions.

When we began dating, he became my drug. I can't help it; I have an obsessive nature; I even took an online quiz once, and it said that I was at high risk for obsessive-compulsive disorder, and I should see a doctor as soon as possible, which I never did. I needed to obsess over him, care about him, love him… Sure, I love my friends, but it's just a friendly kind of love. Loving him felt different. It felt like breaking away from your family the first time and loving someone on your own. I wasn't forced to love my friends, but they have turned into my family since I've never truly had one. I couldn't live without them, and I definitely couldn't love them like I love Draco.

My hand gently runs over his side of the bed every night. I imagine him lying in it, sleeping topless like he always does. He would look pale in the dark, lying on his back, hands tuck behind his head. Sometimes we would shag, but other times, we talked. We talked of our future, how we hoped the wizarding world, as well as the muggle world, would soon accept homosexual marriages, and that he would marry me the instant it became legal, whether it be in the muggle world or not.

Sometimes, I would cry because his scent has left, and I'm thankful that no one else visits this room except for me because I can't bear to change the sheets. If I change them, then his scent will never make its way to my nose again. It would feel like admitting that he's never coming home. He's never going to marry me. I would forever fiddle with the engagement ring he gave me so long ago when he promised to marry me.

But, then woke up one morning all those weeks ago. He had left. No note. No nothing, and it was a weekend. He never woke up early on a weekend. Or, if he did, he'd wake me up in hopes of shagging before breakfast.

He never came back, and I don't know why… I have no idea what happened, but I can only hope he comes back.

God, I miss you, Draco.