Love Me Like You (Fic)
Title: Love Me Like You
Author: original_lie
Pairing: H/D (with a side of H/G)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 536
Summary: It was cliché to a tee. Boy 1 wants boy 2, but boy 2 loves girl, girl doesn’t deserve boy 2, but neither boy 1, nor girl know boy 2 is desperately in lust with boy 1.
Warning: Minor angst.
A/N: This could be the start of something bigger. I’ve kinda wanted to do something like what this implies for a while now, but I’m a big scaredy cat.
Love Me Like You
It was cliché to a tee. Boy 1 wants boy 2, but boy 2 loves girl, girl doesn’t deserve boy 2, but neither boy 1, nor girl know boy 2 is desperately in lust with boy 1. Or at least it seemed that confusing if you stood back and looked at it.
Draco looked across the room to where Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley where conversing with others who had managed to drag their sorry arses out to worship Potter on the third anniversary of the slaying of the Dark Lord. Draco shook his head and stared down into his glass of Firewhiskey. This was too much to bear. How the hell could he be trapped in a room with Potter of all people for hours on end and be expected not to feel. He was going to murder Parkinson the next time he got a hold of the wench. How dare she make him come when she knew how he felt about the man… about the situation.
“Fuck.” he swore under his breath, tossing the entire glass down his throat in one fluid movement; sinking further into the plush lounge he was perched upon.
His eyes rose to lock onto Potter once more, his breath catching in the back of his throat when he saw that Potter was watching him. With a small smile, Draco allowed his eyes to continue roving around the room. It wasn’t long until he felt the seat beside him depress; he kept his eyes locked on Pansy Parkinson who was watching him carefully.
“Hey,”
“What are you doing, Potter?” Draco asked softly.
“I wanted to talk to you-”
Draco cut him off: “Does she know?”
“Who?”
“Ginny.” Draco’s voice was small, wounded; he hated it, hated that Potter could reduce him to this.
“I… I don’t know how to tell her.”
Draco finally looked at Potter, his slate-grey eyes boring deep into emerald-green, all Draco wanted was to reach out and snog him silly- but he couldn’t. Potter wasn’t his to snog. Exactly why he shouldn’t even be having this discussion. He decided years ago he was going to be nothing like his father, this included breaking up happy relationships.
“Are you going to go through with it?” Draco asked, looking down at his hands; picking at the quicks of his fingers.
“I don’t want to…”
“Then, don’t.”
Slowly, Draco pushed himself up, briefly nodding to Weasley who was watching them suspiciously. Pushing his hands into his pockets, Draco rocked back onto the balls of his feet for a few moments, waiting for Potter to say something; anything.
“Draco,” Potter said quietly; practically on cue.
“Don’t, Harry. Don’t make promises you can’t,” or won’t, he thought. “keep.”
With that, Draco, walked over to Parkinson, taking her elbow to whisper in her ear that he was leaving. Briefly, he glanced back to Potter who was sitting with his head in his hands, Weasley standing in front of him, her hands on his shoulders. Closing his eyes, Draco looked away, willing away the jealousy and hurt. This wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to let it. They would all be happier if Draco forgot about Potter… and Potter forgot about him.
Author: original_lie
Pairing: H/D (with a side of H/G)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 536
Summary: It was cliché to a tee. Boy 1 wants boy 2, but boy 2 loves girl, girl doesn’t deserve boy 2, but neither boy 1, nor girl know boy 2 is desperately in lust with boy 1.
Warning: Minor angst.
A/N: This could be the start of something bigger. I’ve kinda wanted to do something like what this implies for a while now, but I’m a big scaredy cat.
Love Me Like You
It was cliché to a tee. Boy 1 wants boy 2, but boy 2 loves girl, girl doesn’t deserve boy 2, but neither boy 1, nor girl know boy 2 is desperately in lust with boy 1. Or at least it seemed that confusing if you stood back and looked at it.
Draco looked across the room to where Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley where conversing with others who had managed to drag their sorry arses out to worship Potter on the third anniversary of the slaying of the Dark Lord. Draco shook his head and stared down into his glass of Firewhiskey. This was too much to bear. How the hell could he be trapped in a room with Potter of all people for hours on end and be expected not to feel. He was going to murder Parkinson the next time he got a hold of the wench. How dare she make him come when she knew how he felt about the man… about the situation.
“Fuck.” he swore under his breath, tossing the entire glass down his throat in one fluid movement; sinking further into the plush lounge he was perched upon.
His eyes rose to lock onto Potter once more, his breath catching in the back of his throat when he saw that Potter was watching him. With a small smile, Draco allowed his eyes to continue roving around the room. It wasn’t long until he felt the seat beside him depress; he kept his eyes locked on Pansy Parkinson who was watching him carefully.
“Hey,”
“What are you doing, Potter?” Draco asked softly.
“I wanted to talk to you-”
Draco cut him off: “Does she know?”
“Who?”
“Ginny.” Draco’s voice was small, wounded; he hated it, hated that Potter could reduce him to this.
“I… I don’t know how to tell her.”
Draco finally looked at Potter, his slate-grey eyes boring deep into emerald-green, all Draco wanted was to reach out and snog him silly- but he couldn’t. Potter wasn’t his to snog. Exactly why he shouldn’t even be having this discussion. He decided years ago he was going to be nothing like his father, this included breaking up happy relationships.
“Are you going to go through with it?” Draco asked, looking down at his hands; picking at the quicks of his fingers.
“I don’t want to…”
“Then, don’t.”
Slowly, Draco pushed himself up, briefly nodding to Weasley who was watching them suspiciously. Pushing his hands into his pockets, Draco rocked back onto the balls of his feet for a few moments, waiting for Potter to say something; anything.
“Draco,” Potter said quietly; practically on cue.
“Don’t, Harry. Don’t make promises you can’t,” or won’t, he thought. “keep.”
With that, Draco, walked over to Parkinson, taking her elbow to whisper in her ear that he was leaving. Briefly, he glanced back to Potter who was sitting with his head in his hands, Weasley standing in front of him, her hands on his shoulders. Closing his eyes, Draco looked away, willing away the jealousy and hurt. This wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to let it. They would all be happier if Draco forgot about Potter… and Potter forgot about him.