"How can I help you Draco?"

Draco was unable to hold your gaze. "You can't help me."

"Then why am I here?" you demanded. His eyes slid back to yours. "Why did you ask me to come back here?"

Draco sighed. "I just..."

"What?"

"I just needed to see you."

"How specific," you snorted. Draco was growing uneasy. "Look, if this is about your fiancée..."

"It's not," Draco said quickly. He didn't want you cottoning on so quickly. He wanted to savour those moments, where it was just you and none of me.

"Isn't it?"

Draco's silence spoke volumes.

"Look, Draco," you said. It hurt when you said his name, so you refrained from saying it too much. "Bottom line is, you love her. That is enough."

Draco tried to agree. He thought it through in his head: Yes, he did love me. But was that enough? He looked at you, trying to figure out his own feelings. There was pity in your eyes. Draco, ever the Slytherin, hated sympathy directed at him. He wasn't thinking clearly.

"It's not enough, she's not enough," he said hoarsely. His heart was pounding. "It's not enough when the girl I truly love is sitting in front of me."