分卷阅读26（1 / 2）

Harry’s waiting for him in the living room. He looks lost, standing there, like he can’t quite figure out what he’s doing or why he would be standing there, still preparing for the next threat. Adrenaline highs can do that to you.

“You alright?” Draco wanted to go to him, but he also knew that company might not be welcome, so he hung back.

“Yeah.” Harry smiled, even though his eyes were still darting around the room. Draco had the feeling that this would be one of the nights where he woke up to the sound of footsteps creaking on twisted floorboards, where he would pretend not to know that Harry was up and about, checking the locks and the shadowed corners for intruders. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Don’t think about me.” Draco dug his fingers into the blanket on the couch, burying them down to the knuckles. It’s easier to have conversations like this when there’s something to hold onto. “You do whatever you have to.”

“Always do.”

Harry still looked lost, and now he looked a little bitter about the whole thing, so Draco thought it would be okay to circle the couch and come up to him. He hesitates before getting closer, but then he reaches out and grabs Harry’s hand, swinging his arm back and forth between them.

It draws Harry back to the moment, a little. He still looks lost, but there’s something clearer about his expression when he raises his free hand to brush against Draco’s cheek, right over where the frosting was.

He’s probably just smearing it around, Draco thinks, biting down on his lip. This is not helping anything.

(Shit, it’s not. He’s the one who threw the fit about not being anything more than roommates, and here he is, acting like a right arse by getting all up in his face.)

“I’m going to come back home, you know.” Harry whispers, and Draco wants to back up. He also wants to invest in some of those light balls that Hermione has at her place, because candlelight is so not helping. “Who’s going to take care of you if I’m not here?”

You don’t even take care of me now, Draco thinks, but that’s a lie, so he amends it to I don’t belong to you, which, depending on what way you look at it, is also a lie.

“Probably Luna.” Stop talking. Step away. Talk about the damn cake, at least kill the mood, will you? “She’ll adopt me, stick me in with the gnargles.”

Harry laughs, ducking his head down to hide his expression, burying his face in Draco’s shoulder. Draco stiffens and tries to stand as still as he can, digs his fingers into the back of Harry’s sweater until he straightens up again. When he does, his face is a lot calmer, like the chaos of the battle had finally been knocked out of him.

“Yeah.” He’s letting go, stepping away, and Draco wants to pull him back. Kiss him, you idiot, weren’t you just thinking about all the things you would never get to say if he didn’t come home, but no, this was not a decision to make at four in the morning. This time, there was no drinks to hide behind, no potion to blame it on, no friends to tear them apart. Here, now, it was only the two of them and whatever actions they took would have very lasting impressions. “Probably would.”

Harry is still waiting. Draco is still hoping that he’ll be the first to walk away, so that for once, Draco doesn’t have to look like a coward.

(He isn’t.)

(Draco always the one who leaves. He doesn’t see why that should change anytime soon.)

Chapter 21

Draco

Harry’s out saving the world, and this time Draco can’t quite stomach the thought of spending all night alone in this flat, wondering what might be happening and having no way to help, so he leaves, promising himself that he had a life before he got caught up in all of Harry’s heroics, and he had a right to have a life now. He had made no promise to stay here and wait like the worried wife, so he could leave, damn it, go off and find his own fun since Harry wouldn’t let him help, claiming that it was too dangerous, and he had all the people he needed.