Bliss My Eyes

Bliss My Eyes

Chapter Six: Horribly Miserable

My head feels detached from my body, as I know what he's saying must be either rubbish or a trap of some sort. Malfoy, I'm quite certain, is not gay. And if he is, mind, then I'm even more certain that he isn't interested in being gay with me.

So he's breathing quite heavily, having said his entire speech in only one or two breaths, and I find myself drawn to his lips.

They are really quite fascinating, his lips, small and pink and absolutely created to pout. Lovely and I have noticed them before, just as I've noticed how he wiggles his eyebrows for effect or raises one for a slightly less meaningful effect, how I've noticed the way he spit out my name in disgust.

I remember then that he's supposed to smell like cinnamon. He doesn't anymore, though, he smells clean but is without any particular scent, just the slightest hint of soap. But then I'm distracted by his mouth again, which looks soft and warm, and I'm sure he's never had chapped lips in his life. Even now, with the rest of him in less than Malfoyesque form, his mouth is still perfect and pinker than a boy should be allowed to have.

He turns and starts heading away again, just like he did the last time we spoke. Only difference is that I let him go then.

He doesn't turn back but he calls, "Don't tell anyone, Potter. I may be lovesick and slightly mad, but I can still make you horribly miserable." And he sounds like the same old Malfoy, not in love with me but in hate with me, rude and insensitive and cold and cruel and-

Doesn't matter.

Except it does because he's a bastard and I know that but still, I can't, I feel like- who cares what my traitorous hormones say because it does matter.

I rush after him and grab his arm, grip it tightly and don't give a thought to if it hurts him. Then I turn him around and see that it must be hurting him because he's wincing, his features scrunched up.

"I am miserable, you insensitive git," I say, aware that I'm almost yelling but unable to control myself. I still feel detached, like this isn't me grabbing him and screaming.

My voice echoes down the hall and I find a small satisfaction in hearing what I just said repeated over and over.

"I don't like noticing how you smell, or how soft your lips look, and I don't like having a fucking crush on someone who puts my friends down, someone who is so stupid and so bloody spoiled!"

"Ow," he says in irritation and looks down at his arm meaningfully.

And then I realize, really realize with no detachment whatsoever, what I've just said.

...and I don't like having a fucking crush on someone who puts my friends down, someone who is so stupid and so bloody spoiled...

And, to remind me, it also repeats itself loudly in the empty hall.

This time I'm the one to turn and walk away, dropping Malfoy's arm like it's burning my fingers just to touch it. And I walk quickly and shake my head as I do it, thinking how could you be such a fool Harry, such a bleedin-

'Harry?'

'Yes?'

'I feel lost.'

'Me too.'

But oh Hermione, I wish she was with me right now because I didn't feel half as lost then but ohGodohGodohGod...

"Harry!" he calls and I'm so surprised to hear my name in his voice that I actually do stop and let him catch up and run in front of me. We stand, face to face, always face to face, never closer and I want so much to just forget who he is and who I am and just just...

For a moment he just looks surprised but then a big smile breaks out and covers his whole face and he says, "So, you fancy me, then?"

Argh!

Rolling my eyes, I try to push past him but he grabs me by the shoulders gently, his long fingers dinging into my cloak my sweater my shirt and I can feel the imprint of them against my skin, that's how hard he's holding me.

"But uh," and he looks down at the stone floor beneath us and shuffles his feet. I've never seen Malfoy shuffle his feet or avoid eye contact. In a normal, non-upside down world I would enjoy his being uncomfortable. Still, he speaks to my shoes and not me as he continues, "Don't you think, in the interest of sanity, that if I like you, and you like me..." He lets it drift off but I know what he's getting at.

And there is absolutely no way...

Already, though, my body seems to be moving in closer to him, my hands finding their way to the bottom of his sweatshirt. I watch myself as I play with it, trying to focus on something that isn't Draco face or the tone of his voice or... Draco? Wait, since when-?

I look up at him and he's lifted his view from the floor and is instead watching me tug on his shirt.

Draco Draco Draco Draco...

Then he looks up at me, his gray eyes wide and full of longing.

Ron told you changes were coming, why didn't you believe him?

And I press my lips to his, but just barely. They are as soft as I would have imagined but I only leave my mouth there for a moment before I pull back and look at him.

He smiles. Not smirks or sneers, but actually smiles. I've never noticed a smile like this one on his face before. "Scared?" he asks.

And it makes me laugh, remembrances of what was once and never will be again. There is no going back after this, no matter what. Once this has happened, even if it ends later tonight or tomorrow or in three years, we've still kissed. "You wish," I say softly and kiss him again, cupping his neck with my hand and slowly, gently pulling our lips back into contact.

We kiss tentatively, I don't know about him but I've never done this before, and it feels strange, because he's a boy and because he's Malfoy, except he isn't anymore, he's Draco. And he tastes good, his lips are warm against mine, even if I'm not quite sure what we're supposed to be doing and I think I'm maybe doing it wrong.

He's much more forward than I am, suddenly opening his mouth and licking my bottom lip with his tongue. Out of surprise I open my own mouth and then wow, there's his tongue in my mouth and it's a bit of an odd thing.

Then again, this whole day has been a bit of an odd thing.

And then my mouth feels cold as he pulls back, keeping eye contact, and I move forward to kiss him again because I really don't want to do anything else right now but this and keep doing it for as long as possible.

"Your friends are waiting," he says and wiggles his eyebrows at me.

"Go with me?" I ask.

He laughs out loud and although I shouldn't be surprised, I find that I am and it hurts. Then his expression changes and he gently reaches for my wrist, takes it and wraps his warm, slightly sweaty hand around it.

"Potter, I really would rather not start a riot. Or possibly a mass outbreak of heart attacks."

I nod.

"It's not you. It's just..."

"No, I know. It's us. It's fate. We'll never get to walk around in front of everyone holding hands, instead we'll toss insults back and forth, you'll sneer and I'll scowl and things will go on-"

He slips his fingers against mine, locking them together. "We can't hold hands once we get inside, but there's still a ways to walk until we get there." I look at him and nod again, this time feeling a lot less defeated.

***

I sit down in the spot that's been saved for me as Ron and Hermione immediately start with the questions. But I follow Draco with my eyes and don't answer them.

His usual behavior is back, even if his hair is mussed and his eyes are surrounded by darkness. But he smirks and brags about things, I can tell from his tone - which is loud and snobby-sounding. When he laughs it's a hollow sound, without meaning.

But he's beautiful and I can still taste him in my mouth, am still shocked by having seen how I guess he would act if he didn't have to keep up a front all the time. We talked as we walked together, and it was strange and awkward but he still pressed forward and told me about how he hasn't been able to sleep, how I haunt him nonstop. I admitted that, although I've still been able to sleep and eat, he's been consuming my thoughts as well. Then, of course, Draco wanted a list of every way my crush on him has affected me.

Food appears in front of me but I just stare at it, don't even reach for my knife and fork. I have no appetite, only miss his lips and his body pressed to mine.

Hermione looks frightened, I realize as my eyes focus back on her. What, I wonder in annoyance, does she think that he cursed me? Like Malfoy even could.

"Harry," she says, voice uncertain. "Are you okay?"

I look at Ron, who is seated next to her, and he also looks concerned.

"Yeah," I say, but I feel no more convinced than they seem to be.