Glow-in-the-dark stars
Title: Glow-in-the-dark stars
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Word Count: 639
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing
Spoilers: None, future fic, doesn't include epilogue
Summery: The glow-in-the-dark stars are still clinging to the ceiling in the spare bedroom.
Prompt: This cancels out the hurt.
A/N: This is one of my baby's where the war with Voldemort changed Harry. This is also highly inspired by the song The Bird and the Worm by Owl City.
They’re lying on the floor in the spare bedroom; the room is empty except for them and the glow-in-the-dark stars that are clinging to the ceiling.
They’re entangled, one big mass of limbs and flesh. The only sound is the sound of their breathing and it isn’t hard to imagine that they’re the only people in the world.
But then an owl hoots from somewhere in the backyard and the picture is broken, but they smile because they still love each other.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In the back yard is a corn field, it seems to go on forever and ever and sometimes late at night they’ll sneak out, running into the still growing corn, laughing and giggling like they’re five years old again, until they tire and collapse in the middle of somewhere, still laughing and giggling.
And then one of them will crawl to the other and they’ll cling to each other, smiling and out of breath, and the moment is perfect because the moon is shining, reflecting off Draco’s hair and Harry’s glasses, and the wind is just a soft caress against their bare skin and nothing can get them out here.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
They’ve left their troubles behind; left them behind in London, far away from the magical little place they’ve created for themselves. Nothing and no one can touch them out here, hidden deep in the middle of nowhere with the corn field in the backyard and the apple orchard to the side and their nearest neighbor four miles away.
It’s perfect.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
There’s a pond down the road, they’ve spent many days there in the summer heat, laughing and playing on the sandy shore, not caring about anything else.
And in the winter they make snow angels and go ice skating, laughing as their cold lips kiss, thinking about the warm hot coco that’s waiting for them at home.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
During the day when Draco’s at work, Harry sits in the sitting room, next to the giant bay window, waiting and watching for Draco to walk up the sidewalk, a smile on his face.
Harry knows that Draco will walk in the door at exactly four fifteen every day except on Fridays when he gets home at exactly three thirty.
Draco’s never late.
Except today when the clock hits four fifteen Draco isn’t anywhere in sight.
Two minutes past, at four seventeen Harry dashes to the phone.
When Draco doesn’t pick up after the fifth ring on the third time that Harry’s called him, Harry sets the phone down with a whimper.
Draco’s never late.
Its four twenty-three when Harry finally hears Draco’s keys in the lock, but by then he doesn’t care.
He’s curled up in a chair, his head on the arm of the overstuffed chair and his own arms covering his head, tapping his foot softly against the foot of the chair, nerves and pain racing through his body.
He can hear Draco’s body thud against the floor as he drops to his knees, slowly, softly placing one of his hands on Harry’s shoulder.
“Harry, love, you’re okay, right? Not hurt anywhere?”
But before he can answer Draco’s pulling him into his arms, clinging tightly to him.
“I’m sorry, pet,” he whispers, kissing Harry’s cheek.
He forces a small half smile onto his face, clinging just as tightly to Draco as Draco is to him. “Yes,” he whispers, “But this cancels out the hurt.”
Draco sighs and Harry knows that everything will turn out okay because the glow-in-the-dark stars are still clinging to the ceiling in the spare bedroom.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: G
Word Count: 639
Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Disclaimer: I don't own a single thing
Spoilers: None, future fic, doesn't include epilogue
Summery: The glow-in-the-dark stars are still clinging to the ceiling in the spare bedroom.
Prompt: This cancels out the hurt.
A/N: This is one of my baby's where the war with Voldemort changed Harry. This is also highly inspired by the song The Bird and the Worm by Owl City.
They’re lying on the floor in the spare bedroom; the room is empty except for them and the glow-in-the-dark stars that are clinging to the ceiling.
They’re entangled, one big mass of limbs and flesh. The only sound is the sound of their breathing and it isn’t hard to imagine that they’re the only people in the world.
But then an owl hoots from somewhere in the backyard and the picture is broken, but they smile because they still love each other.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In the back yard is a corn field, it seems to go on forever and ever and sometimes late at night they’ll sneak out, running into the still growing corn, laughing and giggling like they’re five years old again, until they tire and collapse in the middle of somewhere, still laughing and giggling.
And then one of them will crawl to the other and they’ll cling to each other, smiling and out of breath, and the moment is perfect because the moon is shining, reflecting off Draco’s hair and Harry’s glasses, and the wind is just a soft caress against their bare skin and nothing can get them out here.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
They’ve left their troubles behind; left them behind in London, far away from the magical little place they’ve created for themselves. Nothing and no one can touch them out here, hidden deep in the middle of nowhere with the corn field in the backyard and the apple orchard to the side and their nearest neighbor four miles away.
It’s perfect.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
There’s a pond down the road, they’ve spent many days there in the summer heat, laughing and playing on the sandy shore, not caring about anything else.
And in the winter they make snow angels and go ice skating, laughing as their cold lips kiss, thinking about the warm hot coco that’s waiting for them at home.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
During the day when Draco’s at work, Harry sits in the sitting room, next to the giant bay window, waiting and watching for Draco to walk up the sidewalk, a smile on his face.
Harry knows that Draco will walk in the door at exactly four fifteen every day except on Fridays when he gets home at exactly three thirty.
Draco’s never late.
Except today when the clock hits four fifteen Draco isn’t anywhere in sight.
Two minutes past, at four seventeen Harry dashes to the phone.
When Draco doesn’t pick up after the fifth ring on the third time that Harry’s called him, Harry sets the phone down with a whimper.
Draco’s never late.
Its four twenty-three when Harry finally hears Draco’s keys in the lock, but by then he doesn’t care.
He’s curled up in a chair, his head on the arm of the overstuffed chair and his own arms covering his head, tapping his foot softly against the foot of the chair, nerves and pain racing through his body.
He can hear Draco’s body thud against the floor as he drops to his knees, slowly, softly placing one of his hands on Harry’s shoulder.
“Harry, love, you’re okay, right? Not hurt anywhere?”
But before he can answer Draco’s pulling him into his arms, clinging tightly to him.
“I’m sorry, pet,” he whispers, kissing Harry’s cheek.
He forces a small half smile onto his face, clinging just as tightly to Draco as Draco is to him. “Yes,” he whispers, “But this cancels out the hurt.”
Draco sighs and Harry knows that everything will turn out okay because the glow-in-the-dark stars are still clinging to the ceiling in the spare bedroom.