I don't miss Harry.

Draco said to himself as he walked into an empty flat on the second week without Harry.

I don't miss Harry.

Draco repeated to himself as he ate dinner alone at the kitchen island.

I don't miss Harry.

Draco said again as he showered, not imagining the hot streams of water being Harry's hands.

I don't miss Harry.

Draco repeats over and over as crawls into bed an hour early. The soft jersey sheets settling with ease around his still body, smelling like Harry. Everything in their bed smelled like Harry; warm love, and black opium.

I don't miss Harry.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes.

I miss Harry…