Too Late for Love - Part 1 (H/D)
Title: Too Late for Love - Part 1
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 500
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco hopes it's not too late.
Challenges: Written for the AWDT's Valentine quickie prompts of Dinner for one, and Being stood up/dumped.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Too Late For Love
The flickering light from the candles taunted him. Draco sat at the romantically set table, his heart breaking.
He had booked the private dining room at Harry's favourite restaurant. A single red rose and a box wrapped in gold paper sat atop Harry's plate. Well, it would have been Harry's plate if he were there.
"We're through," Harry had told him three weeks prior.
"You can't be serious," had been Draco's reply. Apparently Harry had been. He'd left without another word, and hadn't said anything to Draco since.
Not that Draco hadn't tried to see Harry, or at least talk to him. As soon as he'd recovered from the shock of Harry actually leaving him, Draco had spent long hours pondering -- not wallowing or brooding; Malfoys simply didn't do such things. He'd come to the realisation that what had got them to that point was his own fault. In fact, he'd come to the conclusion that their relationship must have, in Harry's eyes -- or anyone else's eyes but Draco's own -- seemed entirely one-sided.
Draco had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he recognised that Harry probably had no idea just how much he meant to Draco. So Draco set out to remedy that situation. He sent notes, gifts, and yesterday a letter.
Dear Harry,
I know I can be difficult to live with, and I know that you wanted me to open up … and that I never did. For that I am truly sorry. I had hoped that you would know how I felt, how I feel about you, but I know now that wasn't fair to you.
I can't … I won't accept that we are over. You mean too much to me, and I can't imagine my life without you. The only thing that's kept me going since you left is the hope that I might somehow be able to set things right between us, and that we will be together again.
I have booked us the private dining room at Chez Maurice at eight o'clock on Valentine's Day (trite, perhaps, but I thought it might appeal to the romantic in you). I want to show you just what you mean to me.
Even if you can't bring yourself to give us another try, please join me. If I ever meant anything to you, please do this for me. One last dinner.
Love, Draco
"Monsieur Malfoy, may I refill your wine?"
Draco looked at the clock. Nine thirty. "No thank you, Maurice. I think I've waited long enough."
"Very well, then." He looked at Draco with sympathy. Maurice had seen Draco and Harry weather a fair few storms over the years, but he'd never witnessed one of them being stood up. "Shall I charge your account, then?"
Draco nodded. "Please."
As he was about to leave, Draco took one last look at Harry's plate. He left the rose, but slipped the box into his pocket. "Well, I suppose I have my answer."
Part 2
Author: sesheta_66
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~ 500
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Draco
Summary: Draco hopes it's not too late.
Challenges: Written for the AWDT's Valentine quickie prompts of Dinner for one, and Being stood up/dumped.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Too Late For Love
The flickering light from the candles taunted him. Draco sat at the romantically set table, his heart breaking.
He had booked the private dining room at Harry's favourite restaurant. A single red rose and a box wrapped in gold paper sat atop Harry's plate. Well, it would have been Harry's plate if he were there.
"We're through," Harry had told him three weeks prior.
"You can't be serious," had been Draco's reply. Apparently Harry had been. He'd left without another word, and hadn't said anything to Draco since.
Not that Draco hadn't tried to see Harry, or at least talk to him. As soon as he'd recovered from the shock of Harry actually leaving him, Draco had spent long hours pondering -- not wallowing or brooding; Malfoys simply didn't do such things. He'd come to the realisation that what had got them to that point was his own fault. In fact, he'd come to the conclusion that their relationship must have, in Harry's eyes -- or anyone else's eyes but Draco's own -- seemed entirely one-sided.
Draco had never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and he recognised that Harry probably had no idea just how much he meant to Draco. So Draco set out to remedy that situation. He sent notes, gifts, and yesterday a letter.
Dear Harry,
I know I can be difficult to live with, and I know that you wanted me to open up … and that I never did. For that I am truly sorry. I had hoped that you would know how I felt, how I feel about you, but I know now that wasn't fair to you.
I can't … I won't accept that we are over. You mean too much to me, and I can't imagine my life without you. The only thing that's kept me going since you left is the hope that I might somehow be able to set things right between us, and that we will be together again.
I have booked us the private dining room at Chez Maurice at eight o'clock on Valentine's Day (trite, perhaps, but I thought it might appeal to the romantic in you). I want to show you just what you mean to me.
Even if you can't bring yourself to give us another try, please join me. If I ever meant anything to you, please do this for me. One last dinner.
Love, Draco
"Monsieur Malfoy, may I refill your wine?"
Draco looked at the clock. Nine thirty. "No thank you, Maurice. I think I've waited long enough."
"Very well, then." He looked at Draco with sympathy. Maurice had seen Draco and Harry weather a fair few storms over the years, but he'd never witnessed one of them being stood up. "Shall I charge your account, then?"
Draco nodded. "Please."
As he was about to leave, Draco took one last look at Harry's plate. He left the rose, but slipped the box into his pocket. "Well, I suppose I have my answer."
Part 2