分卷阅读14（1 / 2）

“Oh, I’m not here because I’m lonely or anything,” Potter said, hastily. “Nor do I think you are.”

Somehow, Draco didn’t believe him. But he said nothing while Potter continued.

“It just sucks sometimes, you know, being stuck between being around couples all the time and people losing their shit over me. There’s not very much in between.”

“So…” Draco deliberately left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air. Potter seemed to pick up on that.

“So, you’ve always treated me…well, I’d like to say like a normal person, but that’s not exactly true, is it? But you never treated me like something I couldn’t live up to and you never walked on eggshells around me, either. I like that.”

Draco stared at him. While Potter had talked, two coffee cups had floated in from the kitchen and placed themselves in front of him and Potter. Draco quickly put two tablespoons of sugar in his, thinking hard while he picked it up and started stirring.

“Are you saying you liked that I was treating you like shit?” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that some kind of weird kink?”

Potter made a sound that was something between choking and laughing. “I don’t have a weird kink,” he said, and then added under his breath, “At least, that’s not one of them.”

Draco felt a prickle on the back of his neck which he tried very hard to ignore. Slowly, he took a deep breath, hoping Potter wouldn’t notice. “What exactly are you saying, then?”

“I guess I’m saying…I feel like I don’t have to pretend with you. You know, I…can just…be me.”

Draco almost dropped his cup. It seemed he had just lost control over his bodily functions. His eyes started watering as he stared at Potter without blinking, because he couldn’t move a single muscle. He noticed how the now slightly blurry, black haired figure in front of him started fidgeting again. Draco would have savoured it, if he wasn’t feeling so utterly ruffled.

What Potter had just said…It was the biggest compliment he had ever been given. Sort of. No, actually, it was. Still, Draco wasn’t entirely sure how Potter had meant it. Surely, Draco was reading far too much into it. This inexplicable…infatuation with Potter was making it unnecessarily hard to distinguish between actual spoken words and what he secretly wanted to hear.

He suddenly realised he was probably expected to give some sort of answer or comment. But he had no idea what to say.

‘Great. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m going to hurl whenever you’re anywhere near me and my heart wants to jump out of my chest and into yours, but don’t mind me. You keep being yourself.’

He desperately tried to keep a straight face, slowly lifting the cup to his lips. Whatever he was going to say now, he had to divert Potter, but also himself if he was being honest, from the thunderstorm that was raging inside of him.

“So you didn’t play dumb, is what you’re telling me,” he drawled. “You’re being your true, imbecile self.”

Potter blinked at him like a barn owl. “What?”

Draco forced himself to smirk. “Exactly. But it’s alright, we’ll just add ‘compassion for the dense’ to my growing list of outstanding traits.”

Potter blinked some more, before he rolled his eyes and his lips stretched into a lopsided smile. “Clearly, you haven’t lost your charming modesty,” he snorted.

Sweet Salazar, Draco had made him smile. This was not helping. He put down the cup, his hands slightly shaking, and popped two raspberries into his mouth. He peeked over at Potter’s plate and frowned. Why had he bothered to bring breakfast if he wasn’t going to eat anything?