“Am I enough?” Harry whispers into the nape of Draco’s neck, the question slipping past his lips before he manages to stop himself. It’s that day of the year again, the one that reminds him of all the misery that once was and he can’t quite seem to snap himself out of it. He still doesn’t understand why it’s not getting easier to forget but harder and harder. Isn’t time supposed to heal all wounds?
Draco instantly turns to face him, props himself up on his elbow and frowns. The frown deepens as he tries to work out what brought on Harry’s sudden unexpected bout of insecurity but settles as quiet realisation dawns.
“Why do you ask?” Draco feigns childish innocence.
“You know what they say, plenty of fish in the sea,” Harry mumbles as he reaches out for Draco’s hand and lets his fingers slide in-between Draco’s fingers, relishing in the barely there tickle that always makes him shiver.
“I’m not a fisherman,” Draco rolls his eyes and curls his fingers around Harry’s, trapping them in a firm grasp and making it impossible for Harry to pull his hand back.
“You could’ve fallen for anyone, someone without all this baggage or my horrible temper,” Harry sighs.
“Hm, yes I could have,” Draco muses. “But I didn’t. Besides like a challenge. And I wanted someone who sets my heart on fire.”
“Do I?” Harry wants to know. “Do I set your heart on fire?”
“Amongst other things,” Draco smirks and Harry wants to scoff at that response but doesn’t. Instead, he shuffles closer, lets Draco engulf him in a tight embrace and buries his face in Draco’s warm chest. The steady rhythm of Draco’s heart settles his troubled mind and he breathes deeply, inhaling Draco’s scent and letting it wash over him.
This odd kind of happiness, he still isn’t quite used to it, doesn’t know how to handle it. He knows he ought to be, it’s been going on long enough now, but something inside of him balks at the idea of taking this thing with Draco for granted.
“Your love is all I ever wanted,” Draco whispers into his hair and Harry lets out an audible breath. The words wash over him like a calming draught, like the lingering effect of a strong Patronus, like the taste of a particularly sweet piece of chocolate.
“You’re corny,” he accuses and Draco chuckles, the sound muffled because he’s got his face buried in Harry’s messy bed hair.
“You asked if I was enough, I assumed corny was what you were after,” he mocks with a low drawl that releases all kinds of emotions inside of Harry, releases them all at once to make his head spin. They overwhelm him and he wonders how the world just can’t seem to see past Draco’s Dark Mark. They just see the mistake of a confused seventeen-year-old teenager, brainwashed by his crazy parents and scared into submission by a madman with a megalomaniacal belief system. What they don’t see is the pure and beautiful heart that hides behind a carefully-constructed façade, a protective layer, a proverbial elephant skin.
“They’ve no idea about all the good things you do,” Harry says, his thoughts spilling out of him before he can stop them.
“You do and they don’t matter,” Draco replies promptly, subtly reminding Harry that he doesn’t care about what other people think. He only cares about what Harry thinks.
Harry pulls back slightly and looks at Draco. Their eyes lock and Draco draws him into a playful kiss, which Harry almost instantly succumbs to.
“I’m punching way above,” he mutters when Draco pulls away a few minutes later. He’s feeling a bit light-headed and his lungs need more oxygen than they are currently getting.
“Yeah, you absolutely are,” Draco tells him. “Now stop thinking about whether I’m planning to walk out on you. I’m not,” he adds, his voice firm and unwavering and as if to make a point he pushes his left hand right into Harry’s face, a clever and indirect reminder of the promise they made to each other.
Harry captures his hand, kisses the thick band on his ring finger and smiles. “You and I, this is all I’ll ever need.”