Secret

Secret

Kay Kay

Watch the sunrise/Say your goodbyes/Off we go/Some conversation/No contemplation/Hit the road/Car overheats/Jump out of my seat/On the side of the highway baby/Our road is long/Your hold is strong/Please don't ever let go oh no/Drivin' fast now/Don't think I know how to go slow/Where you at now/I feel around/There you are/Cool these engines/Calm these jets/I ask you how hot can it get/And as you wipe off beads of sweat/Slowly you say I'm not there yet/I know I don't know you/But I want you so bad/Everyone has a secret/But can they keep it/Oh no they can't

For Draco Malfoy falling in love was not an option. Actually, he never even had to feel it wasn't an option. He could not imagine himself falling in love with anyone, ever.

She wasn't just anyone. She had an almost otherworldliness to her. There was just more to her than most girls. Her eyes were large and brown and their inability to hide emotions captivated him (his grey eyes hid everything). Her skin was milky white and had a gossamer quality to it. Her hair seemed to shine like the sun through a monarch butterfly's wing, bright reds and golds and oranges sending prisms of scarlet bouncing off of his eyes.

Yet there was so much more to Ginny Weasley than a pretty face. She had a cleverness and spunk about her, and a wit sharp enough to match his own. A mischievous smile seemed to constantly be turning up the corners of her mouth, as her eyes sparkled with laughter. She was mysterious, and his heart desperately desired to uncover every mystery that lay buried within her soul.

More importantly, it didn't matter to Ginny Weasley that he was Lucius Malfoy's son. It didn't matter that Draco had hated Harry, her family, and even her. The past was dead to Ginny, and in it's place stood the new Draco. The Draco who laughed at her jokes and made her laugh in turn. This was the Draco who had overcome his father and his upbringing, who had finally followed his own heart in the end.

Ginny could see through Draco in a way that no one ever had before. She had given him the freedom to be whom he wanted and was immune to holding grudges against his despicable past.

Draco hadn't known that it would be impossible not to fall in love with the first person that trusted him wholly. In the beginning he had tentatively toed the pool of admiration for her, but had never expected to become, as he had, tangled in the effervescent threads of her personality.

Everyone had secrets, Draco knew this, and his was important. People had secrets about all kinds of things, even stupid things that made no sense to him. The thing about secrets is that they'll weigh on the back of your mind until you tell someone. They're like an itch that won't go away, or a cough in the back of your throat.

Ginny's skin was glowing with sunburn that day, a pink tint over her arms and cheeks after a week in Southern France. He'd missed her while she was gone and it seemed to him that she shone like an angel, a light from the inside he couldn't look away from.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she wanted to know.

Her chestnut eyes were sparkling and a long red curl was slipping out of the pile on top of her head. She looked so real, so tangible yet perfect to him, in that moment he knew he had to tell her, right then.

He told her the secret that he knew he should have kept forever. He told her he loved the way she looked at him and tossed her hair, and the way she always knew a good come back, and was always happy. He told her he loved the stupid pranks she played, and the dirty jokes she told, and how she always asked him about his weekend. He told her he loved her most because she was the first person to ever believe he was good enough.

**

Draco wasn't sure who kissed whom first. The room seemed to tip them together, lips pressed slowly and softly and sweetly. The sun came slowly through the window, catching on the platinum in his hair and her ruby curls, like the sun through the leaves in autumn.

They made love languorously on the floor, with the heat of their breath and the sweat of summer playing on their already impassioned senses .As the morning graduated into the afternoon Draco pressed soft butterfly kisses to all the parts of her body he'd never thought he'd appreciate in a woman: her elbows, her shoulders, her ears, her ankles. He held her as tightly as he could, hoping he'd never have to let her go. He felt so limited in his ability to show her how much she truly meant to him. If only he could give her the world, would that even be enough? Would that even compare to the freedom that she had given him?

As he tenderly stroked her hair, he pondered on their futures together. As long as he had her with him, everything seemed so clear and wonderful. His need for her went beyond any emotion he had ever felt, and nothing would ever change that. While he separated the mixtures of crimson and brown in her hair, he whispered in her ear that he loved her, loved her so much he felt like down was up and the world was spinning backwards. Like Malfoys were telling Weasleys they loved them. He loved her so much that it actually hurt, and for the first time in his life, Draco couldn't think of the right words to say.

She brushed her small hand across his chest, putting her arm, peeling with sunburn, on display. As he moved to hold her closer, he caught the pressing weight of her eyes on him. Her dark eyes, those eyes that told all, had a coldness in them. A darkness that radiated outward from her being. The grin on her face, that he had once called mischievous, now showed malice and disdain. Draco felt her gaze like a physical pain and looked away. Yes, he had indeed fallen in love with her, and for once, there was no secret to be told. Draco could only wonder if it was indeed too late to take his secret back.

Fin.