𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍

Chapter 8

He Would

Things were looking surprisingly up, the boy decided as he sauntered confidently down the corridor, smirking as some first year students hastily scampered out of his way as he made it incredibly clear he wouldn't alter his path for them.

"Shouldn't be standing in the middle of the corridor anyway, stupid plebeians." He thought with a sneer of distain as they swiftly scuttled out his way.

A sneer curled on the pale lips and stormy grey eyes scanned along the corridor, yes, he was decidedly quite happy, it had been a week now since his small talk with Potter and Nott and neither had posed him a problem since.

He still had to put up with the stares of course, and he'd forced himself not to look in their general direction, should he incidentally make eye contact and getting hard in the middle of class. Well, not so much Nott, the stupid prick was quite easy to ignore, but he'd spent six long years constantly interacting with Potter one way or the other. Whether it was jeers or sneers across the classroom. But that meant he had an absent minded habit to look at the speccy git, and several times he almost had.

And god when he made eye contact with him, it was like slipping into a bath filled to the brim with perfectly warm water. And the colour, they were bright and lively and reminded him of the lush leaves of summer's pea-

"Oh for fuck sake" the boys brows knitted irritably as he thoroughly throttled that line of thought. "Am I a fucking poet or something now? There's nothing fucking special about Potter's eyes, in fact, they're not even that nice"

Satisfied with his denial, he mused back over the last few days. As said, only a few looks had been passed to the blond, the same longing, lustful glances which seemed to undress him on the spo-

"Oh for the love of Merlin..."

Draco sank heavily onto the bench in the Great Hall with a scowl, his good mood shattered by his own traitorous mind; it had to be the hormones surely.

Pansy seemed to pick up on the foul mood emanating from the blond and looked up with a questioning glance, eyebrow arching, giving her an imperious look, although came nothing close to Draco's perfected eyebrow arch (He did take pride in that fact).

"Something wrong, Dray?" She cooed lightly, reaching up to gently brush his fringe back but the blond curtly turned his head and shrugged her hand off, missing the small huff from the girl after she shot Blaise a quizzical look.

Equally clueless to the bad mood, the dark skinned boy simply shrugged. As far as he could tell, things had been fine; Nott and Potter had kept a fine distance and hadn't said a word to Draco - although they did suspect Theo was stealing Draco's underwear.

One thing was for certain, Draco wasn't going to confess what was bothering him.

For Merlin's sake how was he supposed to tell them that he was daydreaming about Potter's eyes?

And he even had two very good reasons why he simply shouldn't tell them. One being that a Malfoy did not daydream, and two, they especially did not daydream about another boy's eyes, especially when said boy was meant to be your rival and the goddamn saviour of the entire bloody world!

"Dray, love, Potter's raping you with his eyes again" Pansy informed him casually as she buttered her roll, Draco turned to look at her before jerking his gaze up to the Gryffindor table, almost immediately he picked out the chosen one. His hair as ruffled as if as if he'd just rolled out of bed and

"Oh my god his eyes"

Draco's mouth felt suddenly, uncomfortably dry as a spike of desire suddenly coursed through the boy's body and settled despairingly in his groin. The vivid green eyes that stared at him appreciatively practically ravaged Draco on the very spot. He suddenly felt unnervingly hot as Harry continued to lay a heavy, lustful gaze on him, smouldering with sexual promise should Draco simply give into him.