(no subject)
Title: Breakaway
Rating: Slight PG-13
Genres: Romance, with a dash of angst, and a standard dose of drama.
Summary: Draco is in need of reassurance.
Author snarks: Unbeta'd. About 1000 words or so. Dedicated for all my readers and people who want my head. :) Comments are rewarded with naked Harry and Draco photographs. The wizarding kind.
Now, as I breakaway you seem so much dearer.
Tell me love, what is more clearer?
Dawn came swiftly as night had fallen the last traces of stars, sequins on a seamless indigo tapestry outshone by the rising sun. Orange, red, yellow, an array of pastel colors, splayed alongside the puffy clouds.
Small shafts of light sparkled through the clear etched glass, Draco's sleep perturbed. Untangling himself discreet not to disturb his lover, he slipped away to dress. Adjusting his green and silver striped tie, he paused to look over at the bed.
Untidy dark locks, tanned skin, the essence of one Harry Potter. Those beautiful green eyes, shielded by lush black lashes. Bare and unbeknownst to the events to come.
Fetching his wand on the night stand, he gave one last glance, and left.
::
The Great hall was brimming with students, Pansy, and his usual slytherin posse amongst them.
Pansy waved frantically. "Draco! Draco! Draco!"
He sighed, and made haste towards the Slytherin table. They gave their usual greetings, Crabbe and Goyle grinned at him stupidly, Blaise smirked, and Pansy threw her arms around him and squealed.
"Draco, darling," He winced at that. "where were you last night?"
A bemusing smile. "Out."
Crinkles formed in the corner of Pansy's eyes, her lips curved in distaste. "Oh." Persistence would not work with Draco, he was patient, and secretive, cautious enough to keep his business to himself. No matter how hard she would try, those words would not slip from his lips. A girl perhaps? No. A bloke? A possibility. A very good possibility.
Then, Potter walked in. All attention had shifted towards the Golden boy, Draco included. Grey eyes spurned, coiled, flickered, with intensity. For a moment, Harry paused, stopping to look at the blond, his face, in the same, intense, tightlipped, expression. It came for an instant, and vanished just as quickly.
Pansy bit her lip, worrying it.
The expression on Harry's face, to Draco anyway, clearly said. 'Where were you? Why did you leave me again?'
His appearance was disheveled, hair tousled, glasses perched crookedly on his nose, his clothes wrinkled beyond belief, and his tie uneven and crumpled like crushed satin.
Then Granger and Weasel had come to his side, nursing him like a wounded puppies. As expected, he pushed them away, insisting his fine health, and taking his seat at the table.
Could it? No. Draco wouldn't be that foolish. She wouldn't believe it to be.
Harry frowned into his goblet of pumpkin juice, his mind reeling. The blond had been acting peculiar throughout the week. He could sense resistance from his advances, like he was struggling to control himself. Their bond which had seemed so close knitted, despite the few spats, had seemed more distanced than ever. Had he done something? He couldn't recall. Did he hurt him? Merle, what the hell was the matter?
Unsettled, he excused himself, and drifted down the hall.
::
He watched from behind his Daily prophet as the Gryffindor made his way out of the main hall. Hastily, he set his paper down, and stood up.
"Drake wait, what-" He silenced her.
"Don't concern yourself with that." Before he disappeared down the hall.
::
His footsteps echoed against the cold stones, the sound hollow and cold; reverberating off the walls.
Drowning. That's what he was doing. Sinking in a endless sea of inner turmoil, and slowly, he was suffocating. His pace quickened, emotions growing more, and more unstable. Control was slipping; the urge to bawl, scream, and tear things apart was looking more and more attractive.
Another set of footsteps hastened after his own, the rustle of robes and short breaths in the still quiet. Hermione? Ron? He thought, his body shifting into a full sprint.
The rushes of air soothed his face, feathering the hair away from his eyes. Now, the footsteps were thundering, increasing at an alarming speed; he felt slender arms encircle him, pulling him close. A chest heaved behind him, hot, quick breaths, tickling the back of his exposed neck. He shivered.
"Harry." Lips ghosting the shell of ear.
Fingers skittered up, digging it's way into the material of blonde's sleeve. Soft locks of blond cascaded down the Slytherin's neck, brushing lightly against the brunette's skin. Warmth radiated from the lithe teen; drawing the other boy in.
"Draco?" His voice was wavering, unsure. "Why?"
An intake of breath. Draco pulled him closer, inhaling the tousled locks. It smelt of sandalwood, sex, and himself.
"Why did you leave me again?" echoed the Gryffindor.
"Harry, I-" Draco was struggling to answer. How could he tell Harry of his intentions? Now, more than ever, he held Harry close. His resolve to breakaway, slowly, but surely, was crumbling.
Abruptly, Harry untangled himself from the other boy's arms, turning to face him. He stared into those slate grey eyes, emotions spiraling out of control. There was sincerity, but it veiled what Draco refrained to speak. A hand came up to graze one pale cheek, ministrations like a whisper, faint yet tender.
"Draco." He murmured. "Why do you hide?"
Grey eyes. Always cold, calculating, regarding anything with the merest interest. Yet it was so rapt when it had come to him. Attentive, sparkling, but it had still hidden. Like it had done to the rest of the world.
Harry had known the reason. It had simply been his common nature. At a young age, Draco had been taught many things. A seperation of black and white. His father had taught him the unimportance of human emotion. A weakness he called it, something unfit for the title of 'Death-eater'. So, Draco had hidden, and soon, he had no longer had to force it. Simply because it had come so naturally to him.
Still, Harry had given him freedom, and tried to coax him out of it. There was nothing to hide with him, with him there was room to breathe and space to give.
"I'm sorry." There, Harry could see the clarity of emotions flickering through. The cold was rapidly trickling away, the warmth seeming to glow. "My duty. You know my father-"
He hushed him. A silent understanding. "It didn't matter then. It doesn't matter now. You have me and Dumbledore all within your reach."
With that Harry kissed him. Slow, sweet, reassuring that everything would turn out right, and he wouldn't have to worry of tomorrow.
This, was something only Harry could give.
As the veil is lifted from my eyes,
I find that I,
cannot breakaway.
FIN
Rating: Slight PG-13
Genres: Romance, with a dash of angst, and a standard dose of drama.
Summary: Draco is in need of reassurance.
Author snarks: Unbeta'd. About 1000 words or so. Dedicated for all my readers and people who want my head. :) Comments are rewarded with naked Harry and Draco photographs. The wizarding kind.
Now, as I breakaway you seem so much dearer.
Tell me love, what is more clearer?
Dawn came swiftly as night had fallen the last traces of stars, sequins on a seamless indigo tapestry outshone by the rising sun. Orange, red, yellow, an array of pastel colors, splayed alongside the puffy clouds.
Small shafts of light sparkled through the clear etched glass, Draco's sleep perturbed. Untangling himself discreet not to disturb his lover, he slipped away to dress. Adjusting his green and silver striped tie, he paused to look over at the bed.
Untidy dark locks, tanned skin, the essence of one Harry Potter. Those beautiful green eyes, shielded by lush black lashes. Bare and unbeknownst to the events to come.
Fetching his wand on the night stand, he gave one last glance, and left.
::
The Great hall was brimming with students, Pansy, and his usual slytherin posse amongst them.
Pansy waved frantically. "Draco! Draco! Draco!"
He sighed, and made haste towards the Slytherin table. They gave their usual greetings, Crabbe and Goyle grinned at him stupidly, Blaise smirked, and Pansy threw her arms around him and squealed.
"Draco, darling," He winced at that. "where were you last night?"
A bemusing smile. "Out."
Crinkles formed in the corner of Pansy's eyes, her lips curved in distaste. "Oh." Persistence would not work with Draco, he was patient, and secretive, cautious enough to keep his business to himself. No matter how hard she would try, those words would not slip from his lips. A girl perhaps? No. A bloke? A possibility. A very good possibility.
Then, Potter walked in. All attention had shifted towards the Golden boy, Draco included. Grey eyes spurned, coiled, flickered, with intensity. For a moment, Harry paused, stopping to look at the blond, his face, in the same, intense, tightlipped, expression. It came for an instant, and vanished just as quickly.
Pansy bit her lip, worrying it.
The expression on Harry's face, to Draco anyway, clearly said. 'Where were you? Why did you leave me again?'
His appearance was disheveled, hair tousled, glasses perched crookedly on his nose, his clothes wrinkled beyond belief, and his tie uneven and crumpled like crushed satin.
Then Granger and Weasel had come to his side, nursing him like a wounded puppies. As expected, he pushed them away, insisting his fine health, and taking his seat at the table.
Could it? No. Draco wouldn't be that foolish. She wouldn't believe it to be.
Harry frowned into his goblet of pumpkin juice, his mind reeling. The blond had been acting peculiar throughout the week. He could sense resistance from his advances, like he was struggling to control himself. Their bond which had seemed so close knitted, despite the few spats, had seemed more distanced than ever. Had he done something? He couldn't recall. Did he hurt him? Merle, what the hell was the matter?
Unsettled, he excused himself, and drifted down the hall.
::
He watched from behind his Daily prophet as the Gryffindor made his way out of the main hall. Hastily, he set his paper down, and stood up.
"Drake wait, what-" He silenced her.
"Don't concern yourself with that." Before he disappeared down the hall.
::
His footsteps echoed against the cold stones, the sound hollow and cold; reverberating off the walls.
Drowning. That's what he was doing. Sinking in a endless sea of inner turmoil, and slowly, he was suffocating. His pace quickened, emotions growing more, and more unstable. Control was slipping; the urge to bawl, scream, and tear things apart was looking more and more attractive.
Another set of footsteps hastened after his own, the rustle of robes and short breaths in the still quiet. Hermione? Ron? He thought, his body shifting into a full sprint.
The rushes of air soothed his face, feathering the hair away from his eyes. Now, the footsteps were thundering, increasing at an alarming speed; he felt slender arms encircle him, pulling him close. A chest heaved behind him, hot, quick breaths, tickling the back of his exposed neck. He shivered.
"Harry." Lips ghosting the shell of ear.
Fingers skittered up, digging it's way into the material of blonde's sleeve. Soft locks of blond cascaded down the Slytherin's neck, brushing lightly against the brunette's skin. Warmth radiated from the lithe teen; drawing the other boy in.
"Draco?" His voice was wavering, unsure. "Why?"
An intake of breath. Draco pulled him closer, inhaling the tousled locks. It smelt of sandalwood, sex, and himself.
"Why did you leave me again?" echoed the Gryffindor.
"Harry, I-" Draco was struggling to answer. How could he tell Harry of his intentions? Now, more than ever, he held Harry close. His resolve to breakaway, slowly, but surely, was crumbling.
Abruptly, Harry untangled himself from the other boy's arms, turning to face him. He stared into those slate grey eyes, emotions spiraling out of control. There was sincerity, but it veiled what Draco refrained to speak. A hand came up to graze one pale cheek, ministrations like a whisper, faint yet tender.
"Draco." He murmured. "Why do you hide?"
Grey eyes. Always cold, calculating, regarding anything with the merest interest. Yet it was so rapt when it had come to him. Attentive, sparkling, but it had still hidden. Like it had done to the rest of the world.
Harry had known the reason. It had simply been his common nature. At a young age, Draco had been taught many things. A seperation of black and white. His father had taught him the unimportance of human emotion. A weakness he called it, something unfit for the title of 'Death-eater'. So, Draco had hidden, and soon, he had no longer had to force it. Simply because it had come so naturally to him.
Still, Harry had given him freedom, and tried to coax him out of it. There was nothing to hide with him, with him there was room to breathe and space to give.
"I'm sorry." There, Harry could see the clarity of emotions flickering through. The cold was rapidly trickling away, the warmth seeming to glow. "My duty. You know my father-"
He hushed him. A silent understanding. "It didn't matter then. It doesn't matter now. You have me and Dumbledore all within your reach."
With that Harry kissed him. Slow, sweet, reassuring that everything would turn out right, and he wouldn't have to worry of tomorrow.
This, was something only Harry could give.
As the veil is lifted from my eyes,
I find that I,
cannot breakaway.
FIN