Mistaken Impressions

You're late again. No doubt you'll have some pretty excuse for it, but we'll both know it for the lie it is. You want to remind me that you're in control here, not me. Why do we both put up with this charade when we know the truth? This is just a farce of a relationship, a mockery of everything I believe in.

How can I really think I love you when you stand for everything that is wrong in the world? When it feels like my entire presence in your life is just a testimony to your power over me? You don't even bother to pretend to love me. I'm not worth that much effort, I suppose.

Would it have taken much to just pretend? Let me think I mean something to you other than an easy lay? All I would need is just a short phrase every now and again. Then we wouldn't have to deal with this problem now. I would have let you dictate any terms you wanted. Hell, Draco, you could have kept this quiet to save your skin from your father.

Sometimes it feels the only real thing is what happens between us in bed. I would have to be a fool to think that it's because you can't show how you feel, but so be it. It's the only way I could continue this deception. I've pinned all my hopes on you learning to trust me enough to let me in outside of it; without some sort of encouragement, those hopes die a painful death.

So, are you just in it for the sex? Or do you honestly feel something more? I sometimes see this gleam in your eyes when you don't know I'm looking that makes me think you truly care for me. Then you'll ruin it by saying something to contradict that. You seem to listen to me when I tell you everything will be fine, but you never let me in.

I couldn't even tell you why I'm doing this anymore. You have so much power over me. It pleases you; I see it in your eyes every night when you arrive. Makes you feel big that you can reduce me to this state; that I need you, the person I should hate.

What will it take to make you wake up and realize that this isn't just about shagging the enemy? We could be so much more, if you would only give me the chance. We've come so close so many times, but you've always backed away.

If there isn't any future for us, if you really don't want me here, just say so. If this is just all about being able to claim you've torn the "Boy who Lived" apart emotionally, fine. I just need to know where I stand. If this is really just a big game for you, please let me go.

I don't know if I'll ever get the courage to leave you on my own. I need you too much. Even though you break me up inside, even though you probably don't care for me, you complete me like nothing else. I know your tender smiles and comforting hugs are false, but they are the only things that keep me going sometimes. Rather pathetic, isn't it?

Oh, I can't even talk to you about it. You'll probably just say it wasn't so or mouth empty apologies, just like every other time I've said anything. If you really wanted to be different, you would change.

What can I do? Hermione would tell me to run, not walk, to the door and never come back. Ron would probably want to know what the hell I was thinking in the first place. The sensible part of me knows they are both right. Yet, I can't let go.

Maybe I just need to make a stand, force you to choose. It could totally backfire on me; I could end up losing everything. Yet, if it makes you choose me, it'll be worth it.

Draco stood a moment outside the door, catching his breath and smoothing his hair. He had rushed here as soon as he could get away, but he was still late. Minutes lost that he could have spent with Harry. Assuming he was even here tonight. His hand stilled above the knob, remembering with painful clarity their public fight that morning. There had been such hatred in those green eyes; it couldn't possibly be all false. Shaking his head clear of depressing thoughts, Draco reminded himself that Harry had always shown up every other time with open arms. This time would be no different. He did his best to ignore the little voice that spoke to him about all the arguments that he'd been having with Harry lately.

He finally opened the door with more force than needed and it slammed against the wall. Harry turned from the window he was staring out of, his face carefully void of any expression. He said, "You're late."

Draco nodded and replied, "Yeah, sorry." He ran his fingers through the hair he had just straightened. "I couldn't get away..."

Harry interrupted, "I don't want to hear about it." He crossed over to where Draco still stood in the doorway and pulled him inside the room, closing the door with a swift kick. His eyes glittered with emerald fire and Draco shivered from the heat, unsure if it was a shudder of arousal or of fear.

He wrapped his arms around Harry and tugged him close to his body. Harry pulled back a moment before relaxing against the grip and sliding his own arms around Draco's waist. Draco sighed and leaned his head down onto Harry's shoulder, glad to finally be where he felt the most at home. "God, Harry, I've missed you." No answer was forthcoming from Harry and Draco noticed that Harry seem to be barely tolerating the hug. "Harry?" he asked worriedly. "Something wrong?"

"We need to talk."

Draco stiffened and withdrew from the embrace. He turned away and folded his arms around himself protectively. From the tone in Harry's voice, he knew right away what Harry wanted to talk about. None of these conversations had ever gone right; he couldn't give Harry what he wanted. "Why? So we'll tear each other up? I don't want our time together ruined like that."

Harry snapped at his back, "Well, if you would just listen to me instead of making excuses it wouldn't be ruined."

Draco gave a short, humorless laugh. "Listen to what? It's not going to change anything. We always have the exact same discussion." His fingernails bit into the side of his arms and his brain focused on that sharp pain. It was better than thinking about how his heart felt.

"I'm not coming back."

That softly spoken statement tore into Draco, making him weave a moment in shock. His fingers continued to tear into his arms and he could feel the slippery feel of blood underneath the nails. He closed his eyes, battling the instinct that cried for him to turn around and stop this.

Instead, he listened carefully to what Harry was saying, registering it for later when he was more able to deal with it emotionally. It was all empty words about how this relationship was more destructive than helpful. How Harry was being stifled. Hearing him describe their time together in such a fashion was more than Draco could bear. Icy rage started to replace the disbelief and pain.

When Harry finally ran out of steam and fell silent, Draco slowly turned around, feeling more cold and numb than he could ever remember feeling. "Are you done?" he said in a flat voice.

Looking flustered, Harry mumbled, "Yeah."

"Good. Then go if you do not wish to be here."

"Draco-" Harry started to protest but stopped at a frosty glare from Draco.

"What? Were you hoping I'll give in to your demands if you threaten me with leaving?" A sneer twisted his mouth when Harry hung his head and something inside of Draco died. "Sorry to disappoint you, Potter, but no dice." He reached out with one of his fingers and traced the edge of Harry's jaw, leaving a trail of blood, a dark crimson mark against the pale skin. Harry stared at him, a mesmerized expression on his face. Draco leaned over and whispered almost seductively into Harry's ear, "I'm calling your bluff. You have what it takes to leave?" His tongue reached out and gently licked the rim of Harry's ear and Draco felt a tremor go through Harry.

Biting back a smile of triumph, Draco continued his seduction. His mouth slid down to Harry's throat where he nibbled softly. "Can you walk away from this?" His fingertips lightly traced patterns on Harry's back, the blood getting lost in the black robes. Harry moaned and arched against the touch, bringing his body into contact with Draco's. At that, Draco lifted his mouth from Harry's skin and his free hand tipped Harry's face up with a delicate touch to his chin. Looking deep into Harry's passion filled eyes, Draco spoke softly against his lips, "I didn't think so, you need me too much," before taking them in a deep kiss, his tongue slipping out to duel with Harry's, which was darting forward in anticipation.

At the first contact of their mouths, Draco forgot his anger, forgot about Harry wanting to end this, forgot everything but the sensation of Harry. No matter what else happened, here was the reason for everything. This was the only way he could be free. Losing himself in the kiss, Draco stopped playing and tried to show with his touch how much Harry meant to him.

When his chest was suddenly pushed at, Draco stumbled back to the floor, surprised. Harry stared at Draco, his breath jagged and harsh. Fierce resolve stiffened his posture and he practically snarled, "No. I won't let you do this to me." Draco just looked back, feeling dazed and lost. With a final scowl, Harry turned away and stalked out of the door.