Intense

Window Shopping

Snow had fallen early, and it only fell heavier as the earth trudged on into the worst of winter.

The white, powdery layers of cold crunched under the weight of footsteps day to day until blotchy paths had been naturally worn into it, now only slushing like water under the weight of Draco's expensive shoes. The yellowed grass beneath the snow peaked out, too frozen to muddy up.

Hogsmeade was quiet, quieter than it was during the brunt of the school year. It was filled with the low but lively chatter of mostly locals going about their holiday errands, nothing like the roaring of Hogwarts students Draco was used to.

The air was dry, gray skies making way for grayer clouds, streaks of white the only adornment to the bleak display. The colorful streets of Hogsmeade did little to blow color up into it. Draco supposed the lights were lively, but he couldn't shake his noticeable lonesomeness.

He turned his face to watch chimneys puff smoke into the air, a fragile part of him waiting for a morbid skull-shaped symbol the more rational part of him knew would never emerge.

Shaking the thought from his head, he carried on along a mostly melted path of snow through the main streets of Hogsmeade. Shop after shop, each one was filled to the brim with holiday trinkets and themed goodies that appeared to be all but literally flying off the shelves.

He lingered for a moment in front of Gladrag's Wizardwear, mindlessly eyeing the wacky socks on display in the windows. He squinted at them, shaking his head at some of the properties advertised. Who would ever need a pair of socks that knew how to sing?

Familiar hair appeared in his peripheral vision, and Draco turned away from the sock display to see you clumsily backing out of the Tomes and Scrolls next door. A comedically large stack of books balanced in your arms, piled well above the top of your head. There was no use in fighting the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Draco called your name, and you spun around. Your face peeked around the side of the stack of books, and fondness bloomed in his chest. He waved and took a few quick steps towards you.

You smiled at him. "What are you doing here, Draco? I thought you went home for the holidays." You stepped in place, balance unsteady.

Draco felt anxiety pull at the back of his throat. His own smile faded. "Ah, it's..." He looked down, staring at his shoes. The memory of a noseless face wandering the corridors of his family manor made his lungs constrict around the air he was breathing. "Complicated."

Turning his gaze back to you, your eyes met. He felt his heart beat faster, and the chatter of the streets around you seemed to have disappeared. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. Your balance slipped further away from you.

You broke eye contact to monitor your stack of books, and he watched you lose your footing and stumble. The books slid, tilting until at least half of the stack tumbled over onto the snowy ground. An exasperated breath left you as you stared down at them, hunching forward to start picking them up.

Draco knelt on one knee and reached to help you.

"Don't-" You started, "You're getting your knee wet."

Draco furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why shouldn't I? You don't want my help?" He couldn't help but sound a tad offended, chest deflating a bit at the idea you didn't want his assistance.

"Draco, I guarantee the pants you're wearing cost at least double what these books cost, I've got it." You continued to pile books back into your stack as you reasoned. Draco took it as a challenge.

"Nope," He reached out and pulled the books you'd already picked back up off the stack by the sides, tucking them under his own arm. He hurried to swipe the ones left on the ground. "You're gonna let me help you."

"Hey!" You argued, only met with a harsh 'Shhhh'.

"And, you're gonna let me carry these." He smirked at you, expression dripping with smugness. You stared at him, visibly itching to argue further. The grin only dug deeper into his face, holding eye contact with you as he picked up the last book. Your face reddened, and he wanted to cup it in his hands and feel the warmth under your skin.

You rolled your eyes at him, settling back, and Draco felt like he'd won a quidditch world cup, pride swelling behind his ribs. He looked down at the last book, taken aback by the cover. His brows drew tight again, expression shifting.

It was a flowery thing, the fragile paperback cover tinted pink with bubbly love hearts scattered across the picture of a stone-faced blonde guy gazing solemnly into the void. The title was too frilly to read.

He looked up at you, the beginnings of a sneer pulling at his top lip. "What is this?" Must be some kind of romance novel, he figured.

Your eyes widened, and the color bled from your face a little. You pawed at it, ripping it out of Draco's hand. "Give me that-"

He chuckled, your reaction confirming his suspicions. Another smirk pulled at the side of his mouth. "Never pegged you as the romance type, L/N." He teased. "You got a little crush on someone?"

Your face reddened again, a deeper red than he'd ever seen on you creeping its way up your neck and into your cheeks. He wanted to write it off as the cold biting especially hard this year, but his stomach churned in fear that he'd struck a nerve. Did you have a crush on someone?

"Shut it, Malfoy." Your tone was a joking one, but there was a lilt to it he had never heard from you. You placed the book front-down on the stack you were holding and stood up, noticeably more stable with your haul halved. Draco stayed knelt, emotions surging through him.

You blinked down at him, and he'd never been so tempted to prod at your eyelashes and kiss your eyelids as he was now, guts twisted in knots and aching at the thought of someone else feeling how he felt about you - of you feeling how he felt for someone else. 

His mouth hung open around words he didn't know how to speak. Nobody could ever want you as bad as he did, and he wanted to take that obnoxiously pink book and throw it so far it could never convince you to believe anyone that says they do. The air felt like fire when he breathed it in.

You cleared your throat.

"I'm headed to Dervish and Banges." You jerked your head back and sideways, in the direction of the music store. Then, voice smaller, "Would you like to come with?"

Your brows were drawn inward, and you sounded unsure. As if Draco would ever say no to you. "Uh..." He trailed off, blinking back up at you. He realized, all at once, that he was still on one knee.

His mind raced with images of what ring he'd buy for an occasion like this, and he felt as though no ring would ever be enough to express all he needed it to. Though the weather was icy, he felt sweat prick at his pores, and warmth danced below his skin. You were still staring at him.

He stood, blushing, and brushed the wet snow that had caked onto his pant leg back off onto the ground. He swallowed roughly, embarrassed. He felt fourteen again. "Yeah. Yes, I would."

The two of you wordlessly blinked at each other, eyes flickering up and down the other's face. A dog scurried down the street, barking, and you both jumped. Breathlessly chuckling, you smiled at Draco before turning away. "Come on, then."

His lips press together tightly for a moment, and he allows himself a second just to watch you walk. The blood rushes in his ears, his heart following you well before his legs do.