꧁𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛꧂

                                    

                                          
Word count: 6k
Published: July 8th, 2020
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May
                          
May started sweetly and ended in a horrible, horrible way. 
                          
The first few days of May were nice, consisting of mostly small dates and schoolwork. Draco spent a lot more time in his own head than in reality, and Harry noticed. 
                          
"Whatcha thinking about?" Harry asked Draco, plopping down onto the bench next to the blond. They were sat at the breakfast table a few days into the fifth month of the year. They were the first ones at the table of their friend group, which was a new thing. 
                          
Draco did not respond, because he had been oblivious his boyfriend's attempt at interaction. 
                          
"Hello? Draco? Anyone home?" Harry asked, prodding Draco's head with a finger. "Draco?" Harry said Draco's name in a voice that flowed like a wave, stretching in out and elongating the sounds. The locution was beautiful; it was a bundle of incredible pronunciation. 
                          
Draco snapped back to reality. "What?"
                          
"Oh good," Harry sighed. "I thought I was going to have to do something momentous to get your attention."
                          
Draco shook his head and accepted a small kiss from Harry. "I just- I just... I have something on my mind, is all." 
                          
"What is it?" Harry asked. He grabbed some blueberries and plopped them onto his and Draco's plates. 
                          
"I'll tell you when I've resolved it," Draco mumbled, and they left it at that. The fact that Harry was able to do this, was able to allow Draco his own time to ruminate over whatever he was pondering with no questions asked, was amazing. 
                          
Pansy soon joined the group, and she launched into conversation with Harry about something that Draco couldn't be bothered with. Pansy and Harry worked well together, Draco decided. They were able to hold good conversation with each other without needing any support from Draco or anyone else. Harry worked well with all of his friends, Draco reiterated. 
                          
A few of their other friends joined them. 
                          
Draco fell deep into thought, like a hole in the ground had swallowed him up. Harry's hand was placed on the small of Draco's back, and every time it shifted to form calming shapes, Draco felt a shiver run over himself. Why did he enjoy that so much? Would he feel the same crackle of excitement if someone else held their hand on his back? 
                          
Harry's laugh made Draco feel numb, but in the best possible way. It felt like a thousand doses of happiness and wonder had just been shot into his body. And when Draco thought about it, he guessed that Harry's voice did the same thing. 
                          
As everyone ate, Draco only nibbled on his breakfast, and Harry had to remind him to feed himself before he withered away to nothing. Draco took this fact into consideration when determining the verdict of his newest question. 
                          
Was he in love with Harry Potter?
                          
It was entirely possible if Draco looked at all of the accumulated data. He and Harry were simply in a good place. A nice spot for him to say these types of things. 
                          
But then there was that thought. The thought that made Draco question his entire relationship. Why hadn't Harry said anything about loving Draco yet? Did he simply not love Draco? How was Harry, the Gryffindor in the relationship, so closed off about his feelings?
                          
Draco decided that he didn't love Harry Potter. 
                          
Right? 
                          
Wrong?