Waking Moments (A Drarry FanFiction)

Chapter Nine

   Harry wakes.

The bright sunshine is streaming through the open windows, and even though there's a spell cooling the room, Harry can taste the humidity on the foreign air as it drifts through. Draco isn't beside him, and Harry assumes that the jetlag has got the better of him, so he jumps out of bed to find his flip-flops and glasses, pulls on a pair of brightly coloured shorts, and bounds out of their wooden villa into the holiday complex nestled in the jungle.

There are other huts around them, but they're so hidden Harry could almost believe they were on their own island, hidden away from all the world. He and Draco have been on holiday many times before, but Thailand is the furthest he's even been, and despite only arriving less than twenty-four hours ago he's already in love with Phuket.

Draco is sat at the small table and chairs on the decking that runs alongside the villa, a platter of sticky, glistening fruit pilled in front of him...and a bottle of cold champagne. "Bit early for a drink isn't it?" Harry asks playfully, but Draco jumps a mile in the air, scrambling to his feet and looking guilty.

"I thought you were still asleep," he says, and Harry sees there's clearly something wrong. He's tense and evidently been chewing his lip; he runs his hand through the back of his hair and tries to smile at Harry, but it just comes off as a sort of grimace.

"Draco, what's wrong," Harry panics, running through all kinds of crazy scenarios in his mind. Is someone sick back home, has some disastrous case broken at work that means they need to leave? Or is it something simpler, maybe the hotel has messed up their booking or something? He knows how Draco frets when things aren't perfect. He darts over and holds his shoulders. "Tell me," he says urgently.

Draco exhales and gives him a shaky laugh. "No, it's okay, I promise, I just..." He fidgets, rocking from foot to foot. Like Harry, he's also wearing Bermuda shorts and nothing else, so it's easy for Harry to slide into a hug and press his cooler body against Draco's sun-warmed one.

"Baby relax," he says. "Whatever it is, we'll fix it, don't worry."

Draco laughs again, and Harry can feel his muscles loosening under him. "Yeah," he says. "You're right, it's okay. It's just-" He pulls back to smile reproachfully at Harry. "I had this whole big plan sorted out for this evening, and I woke up and I can't do it, I can't last that long, I'm going crazy."

"Draco," says Harry calmly. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

Draco swallows visibly and takes a slow, deep breath. In a sudden decisive movement, he reaches into his pocket...

...and gets down on one knee.

Harry is pretty sure the whole entire world grinds to a halt.

Draco's opened the box to reveal a simple gold band, and he's looking at it with genuine terror on his face. "I had this whole speech too," he ploughs on, a clear tremor in his voice. "About how much I've always loved you and can't believe I'm lucky enough that you love me too, and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but none of it seems to be enough, and-"

"DRACO!" Harry shouts, startling him out of his rambling and getting him to look up at him grinning like a fool. "Please ask me to marry you already."

"Harry James Potter," Draco says quickly, not blinking. "Please will you marry me?"

"Yes," Harry laughs and yanks him up on his feet so he can kiss his face off. "Yes you prat, of course I will, why would you ever doubt it?"

Draco is crying and Harry feels he's not far off. "Because," Draco manages, as Harry gently wipes the tears away with the back of his thumb. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you're too good for me, and I keep telling myself one day you're going to finally realise that."

Harry kisses his wet, salty lips and hugs him close. "I don't mean to sully this beautiful moment," Harry says quietly. "But you're a fucking idiot."

Draco bursts out into wobbly laughter, and thumps Harry on the arm. "Potter," he berates.

"Malfoy," Harry scorns back. "You also happen to be the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I can promise you I'm not going anywhere." He pulls back and looks pointedly at the ring still in its box, Draco realises what he's asking and gives himself a shake, easing the ring out from where it's nestled, and slips it on Harry's finger.

"Perfect," he breathes with a sigh of relief. Harry rubs his thumb over it, trying to absorb what it all means, one simple little circle. It seems silly to think it will change everything, nothing's changed really, but to Harry it has. The little bit of jewellery symbolises so much.

"I love it," he says, taking Draco's hands. "Can we get you one too?" he asks before thinking. "I don't know how guys are supposed to do it, but, I want you to have one too, I want everyone to see you're mine."

Draco bites his lip as he smiles, looking a little sheepish. "There might be one to match," he admits. "But in silver."

"Perfect," Harry tells him, resting their foreheads together. "Now let's pop that champagne. We've got an awful lot of people to fire call."