Lost Memories // Drarry

Chapter 53: Forever

Draco stands under the pouring rain. It pelts him relentlessly and mixes with his salty tears. He hadn't even realized he had been shedding them, but they fall freely.

He takes a step forward. And another, and another until he is right outside the door.

His hand goes up, but it remains there, frozen. He's unable to knock. His breath halts as his fingers begin to shake. Blood rushes unbearably loud in his ears as he stares at the door.

He stares at it and stares at it and stares at it. And the rain continues to fall on him. His hand continues to shake, and time continues to pass as he stands there.

He fucked up. Badly.

Draco might lose him. Forever.

Forever is so horribly permanent. It's so achingly final, and he can't stand it.

It's been hell. He's spent every minute of their time apart stewing in regret. He sent letter after letter. Call after call. He apparated to location after location, but Harry had so completely disappeared that it was impossible to find him.

Draco tore through his apartment in a rage. He wasn't even aware of it. He wasn't himself as he destroyed his furniture and shredded his linens.

Draco had gone on a walk to clear his head, and Harry was gone when he got back. His mind had run wild when he had the time to himself. It had gone crazy with happy endings and tender kisses. His mind bled with possibilities as the air played with his hair.

The blonde strands whipped against his cheeks and tried to anchor him back to reality as he dreamed of tomorrow. He was on his way back when it occurred to him. What an utter dumbarse he was being.

But Harry was already gone.

He was selfish. He was scared-

The door opens.

All thoughts flee his mind as he freezes in place. Harry hums to some music and turns around. He doesn't even notice Draco standing there in the pouring rain. The darkness and the water falling from the sky must shield his presence from view.

Draco can barely breathe as he watches Harry go back into his house, still not noticing the blond's presence. Harry softly sings as he lifts a heavy box. He grunts at the weight of it before resuming his tune.

Draco can't help but stare. He's entranced. The activity is so inherently mundane, and yet it feels so intimate. It feels just for him—like no one else gets to see it.

Draco's mouth goes dry. Harry moves towards him like he's stuck in Draco's gravitational pull.

And then Harry's eyelashes flutter upwards, and they finally catch sight of Draco standing there. His eyes widen as Draco's shoulders rise and fall rapidly. Time slows as they stare at each other.

The world tilts, and Draco feels dizzy as Harry's eyes scrutinize him and pull him apart. And then the box slips, and Draco watches it fall. It falls so slowly. Draco can't get to it fast enough despite the slow speed at which it falls to the floor.

Harry yelps as it hits his toes, and the tension snaps like a rubber band. He jumps up and down, and curses pour from his lips.

Draco flinches. He tries to reach out but then thinks better of it and retracts his hand.

"I'm sorry, I should have said something. I shouldn't have surprised you." Draco offers a lame apology.

"You fucking think?" Harry sneers, and Draco recoils. Harry sits down on the edge of the box and rubs his foot. "Fuck," he gasps, "that bloody hurt." Harry looks down and examines his foot.