Fake Lovers

15. Thoughts

Draco's POV:

The crowd cheers once again. We both stopped abruptly, our ears finally in focus with the background. We were both still gripping each other's arms. As soon as Potter saw my eyes linger to our tangled arms, he quickly puts them down.

We looked at each other weirdly. Almost... blushing. Potter looks away, breaking the eye contact.

I see Pansy looking at us back and forth shocked. I groan to myself quietly.

"I'm sensing a little sexual tension here..."

She trails accusingly. I bit my lip, embarassed. But people might have insinuated my small gesture as a confirmation to Pansy's accusation.

"Ooh. I just got goosebumps. Who knew that the times where you two were fighting each other to death only meant that you wanted to shag with one another?"

She shook her body for a dramatic effect. I hide my disgusted reaction from her.

"Think what you wish. It's his turn now."

I say the last sentence a little more loudly so that people would stop burning their eyes at us to search for something that isn't there. Potter and I went back to our seat, sitting on it as we did earlier.

"So... Parkinson."

Potter called, his voice dry. Pansy tilts her head in wonder.

"Oh my... you are out for blood aren't you, Potter? Whatever. I pick dare."

She says confidently. Of course she picks dare. If she picked truth she'd seem like a wuss. Potter snickered to himself.

"Then I dare you to snog Hermione Granger for a minute."

He says and everyone audibly gasped. Even my mouth was opened agape. I did not expect Potter to throw Granger under the bus for his petty revenge. Granger seemed oddly calm about it. Sure, she looks a little shocked but I expected her to be more angry about it.

Weasley is shooting daggers with his eyes. Clearly opposed to the idea. Pansy on the other hand... she looks revolted by Potter's dare. Well at least it's only for a minute. She shakes her head.

"Fuck no!"

She says loudly. I'm very amused by this, remembering how I mentioned about her and Granger a few weeks ago. Now they'll actually snog. And I'll be here to see it. You're not that bad sometimes, Potter.

"Come on Parkinson. It's a dare, you have to go through with it."

She pouts then looked at me expecting me to back her up or disagree. I shake my head while grinning. No chance in hell Pansy. I want to see this in live action. Granger was already waiting for her in the circle. Pansy fidgets with her zipper.

Then, of course, she caved. She made the rules, she can't be bias and make herself an exception. She lightly stomps to Granger, where they're both kneeling and facing each other just like Potter and I earlier. Granger whispers something to Pansy and it seemed to calm her down a little.

What exactly did she say to her? Pansy leans in slowly and kisses her, but it was soft and wasn't rushed much like...

The night went on, with more unhinged truths, bold dares and alliances. I had too much to drink, and apparently so did Potter. It seemed like I was drowning in liquor like a drunken old man on the streets. Perhaps it's because of the strange feelings inside me that I cannot recognize myself.

I've always thought that alcohol will divert my attention and thoughts elsewhere, but as I drank more glasses, I am alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that harrassed my mind for answers. I try to stop myself from drinking, but people keep offering me more. I cannot resist.

I am slumped against the love seat. I felt Potter's warmth, as he's leaned beside me. He's definitely drunk too. The night ended with me remembering blurry images of Potter's ginger friend helping him walk with his arm slumped on his shoulder.

And as I processed that image, I am suddenly aware of someone also helping me up as I walked wobbly up on the stairs. I assume with that much patience to deal with my shenanigans, it'd be Blaise. And the night's events ended there. The moment my room's door opened, I've passed out completely.

The next morning, I am violently woken up by the sunlight through the sheer curtains. I groan to myself, blocking the bright light with my hand. My head pains badly from the hangover. I woke up in yesterday's clothes, and in my bed. Only... I am not alone under the blanket.

My hands come in contact with someone's arm. And of course, said arm is Potter's. I look to my side, seeing Potter's sleeping face, protected from the sun. I furrowed my brows, trying to recall what had happened yesterday. The last thing I remembered was tripping infront of the door.

As disgusted I am by the close proximity in bed with fucking Potter, I still cannot gaze away from his peaceful face. Without his glasses and without those hateful striking green eyes that threatens a different emotion behind it.

I shake my head. Eugh! What on Merlin's earth am I thinking? I push him off the bed, which results to a sleepy grunting noise. He peaks over the bed with half opened eyes.

"What..."

"What the hell were you doing in my bed?!"

He stands up and rubs his face.

"Where's my glasses?"

He asks while rubbing his squinting eyes. I roll my eyes. I look at his glasses near my bedside table and grabbed it as I tossed it near him on the bed.

"Answer my question."

He puts on his glasses and looks at me, my question finally dawning on him.

"Wait... what- what was I doing in your bed?"

He says confusedly. We both looked at each other in both confusion and in horror.

"You can't answer a question with another question."

I replied nervously. What happened yesterday? He looks around then went to his own bed to trail back from the beginning.

"Oh I remember-"

"We don't have all day."

He glares at me.

"I was about to tell you, prat. As I was saying, I remember Ron helping me up and he asked me one too many times on which bed is mine. I was too drunk to comprehend his words so I replied with slurry nonsense. So he just placed me on your bed. And as for you, I'm assuming Blaise thought... that we sleep with each other I guess..."