“so? you’re not supposed to be—” he rubbed at his hin, drawing drao’s attention to it. he immediately woer’s beard felt as soft as it looked. merlio touh it.
“it’s not an at, if that’s what you’re—”
“whatever it is, you op. now!”
“why?”
plowered at him. “yed,” he said, as if that expihing.
“why do you even are?” draritted teeth, his heart hammering i.
“fuk you, drao! you know why.”
no, drao did ouldn’t be.
&ared at eah moment, until potter’s expression turned from livid to something more omplex.
“how long have you been engaged?”
“that’s—” —none of your busio say. he didn’t want to talk about this. least of all with potter. but he was tired of fighti tell potter the whole truth, but maybe he’d st him if he at least told him somethi e summer,” he finally said.
“who is she?”
“her oria,” drao said, unwilling to give more information. the look on potter’s fae made his stomah twist unomfortably.
“do you love her?” he asked, his voie barely a whisper.
drao averted his eyes, staring at potter’s polished shoes instead. he had really made aoday. had it truly been for drao? or…for henry?
“do you love her?” potter repeated in an almost pleading tone. drao pressed his lips together. he ouldhere were too ma to. he ould feel potter’s eyes on him, ould almost feel his breath on his skianding too lose.
“will you please stop lookihat?” drao said, pointedly keeping his head down.
&?” potter whispered.
drao squared his shoulders before he lifted his head in defia to look at me.”
potter’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “i don’t,” he whispered. “believe me, i wish i didn’t want to. i wish—” he leaned l drao’s pulse into a frenzy. “i wish things ould be different.”
drao khis should be his ue to leave. he shouldaring at potter, o from him. his lips involuntarily parted whe warm, hesitant fingers brushing his. his ihed, moving against potter’s palm. his hand losed around drao’s iurn. drao inhaled sharply, urling his toes in his shoes and losing his eyes. did potter really want him? was that it? no, it ouldn’t be. he had found someone else. he was iio wanted drao as a friend.
“i an’t,” drao whispered, a sharp pain shooting down his throat as he spoke.
“i know,” potter replied quietly, but he didn’t remove his hand.
did he know? drao doubted it. he doubted potter had any idea how muh drao was suffering.
“i have to go.”
&er ould tighten his grip, drao withdrew his hand a of the kithen, out of the ft, without a bakward gne.
chapter 8: unless you wanna e along
sunday, 16 marh 2003
“it’s about time,” pansy sepped into his bedroom.
“what are you doing here?”
“so you really fot,” she huffed. “we were supposed to have dinner.”
“oh.” he didn’t even remember making pns with her. he felt too exhausted to rak his brain or even have a normal oio wao olpse a up again.
“e on, if e an still—drao?”
he had suo his knees, pressing his palms against the old floor.
“drao, what’s wro pansy’s hands on his bak as she k down in front of him. “merlin, y. drao, ened?”
“i—i an’t—” stubboro hold bak the tears that were f in his eyes.
“talk to me,” pansy said, her voie full of onern. she pulled him loser, f his arms to olpse, until his head was restihout thinking, he grabbed at her dress, linging to it as if that would lessen the pain.
“i—” he gulped. “i broke up with astoria.”
& pa? but—you—”