Living In My Head (Drarry)

Chapter 31: Playing the Game

A.N.
Chapter song: The Clockmaker by Vexare
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He got to the ball first, a large smile already formed on his face as he raced towards my side. I've seen this move before, the day I watched him at practice. I let out a laugh, kicking the ball towards me and making one quick kick towards the goal, falling on my back as it hits the net.

Score 1-0.

"Put any more oomph in that and you would've done one mean backflip," he muttered thoughtfully, retrieving the ball and putting it on his penalty line, me waiting in the middle of the field. I give him a dirty look and he grins, "Touch, touchy. Not your fault you're a wet floor sign waiting to happen."

I feel a grin of incredulity light up my face, "You're gonna regret that, Malfoy."

"Hit me with your best shot, Potter! If you don't fall on your ass first, that is!" he grinned, passing me with ease and making the goal. I frown, knowing his distractions are getting the better of me.

Score 1-1.

An hour later, we're still going strong, the witty comments dwindled away into excited huffs as we play keep-away, our scores tied at 16. The sweat rolled off our faces and down our backs, our knees covered in scrapes from too many slips on ice patches. The weather had gotten less chilled. Testing my luck with the hot breeze, I pulled off my shirt and tossed it in a patch of grass that managed to stay unmarred by snow. Draco stopped stretching his arms above his head and glanced over at me before his expression hardened and he took his shirt off too, walking over with the ball in-hand, and dropping his shirt on top of mine.

Suddenly, I gave him a sharp smirk, "Is that a challenge? Cuz that seemed like a 'just being fair' kind of token."

"It's whatever you want it to be, Harry." his breath ragged and uneven from the running. My face shot up to look at him as his face was slightly reddened from the exertion, his mouth parted as he exhaled and inhaled sharply.

My mind immediately went to the gutter, but I played it off, secretly memorizing the sound of the phrase and his facial expression as the words passed from his lips. I may need to remember that on a rainy day. I let a small grin surface, "Then a challenge, it is; let's get this show on the road."

"Fine by me."

We got back into position and began again, this time even more seriously than before. His kicks were relentless, he was far from going easy on me, and I ran faster than I ever had. I felt my breath go ragged and I feel free as the wind hits my face. Suddenly I stop and my throat feels like it's closing. I stop to try and catch my breath, willing myself not to panic and Draco puts his hand around my back.

"Come on... let's go inside. You need to rest."

I was too winded to argue as he picked up our shirts and lead me inside. The walk uphill seemed to take forever and the hot breeze no longer blowing, caused my sweat felt ice cold. I shivered and he pulled me tighter to him, putting his jacket around my shoulders.

Score 17-19, winner is Draco Malfoy due to early forfeiture, have a pleasant day.

...

The sun seemed to set unsettlingly fast as Draco helped me upstairs. I'd calmed down and my breaths were even but my legs felt shaky. Once we reached his room and he'd set me gently on the bed, the doorbell rang.

"I'll be right back."

I nodded limply as he cast one more unsure glance before bounding out of the room and down the stairs. I heard him talking some and yelling a thank you before he returned with several boxes in his arms.

"Your clothes, as well as mine, have arrived. If it were any other case, I'd be okay with you being in pajamas at the dinner table but," he paused, gauging the words before sighing them out, "my dad has this thing about it being against 'table etiquette' or something... In any case, pick out something from the clothes, if you need my help- since you still seem pretty weak- just ask."

I nodded, gently unwrapping his jacket from my shoulders and setting it down next to me. I watched him with drooped eyelids as he took off his pants and changed into fresh ones, taking a shirt from his closet shelf and turning to ask me something before he notices I'm watching.

"Like what you see, Harry?" he jokes weakly, crossing his arms as he leans into the frame of his closet door.

"What would you say if I did?" I know I'm getting too close, opening myself up way too much, but for some reason I feel like I could trust him. Trust him even with my life. My eyes move slowly from his bare chest to his eyes. His eyes look wide and something that looks like terror. Great. Fucking fantastic. I scared him off again.

"I'd say that you should refine your tastes to something more dignified." he says with a small smile, pulling on the shirt.

Well, damn. There goes my five-star view. "My tastes are refined as hell, so you know what, screw you." I say with a smile, my panic fading as I pull off my pants and pull on a pair I'd gotten today. Walking over to the drawers, I'm about to grab a tee when he looks at me with sad eyes. Oh, he wants me to wear a new shirt too. He did spend a lot of money on them, so I should be grateful and wear them. I pull a sweater on, fastening the cream-colored buttons slowly.

"Sorry," he mutters as he catches my eye, "it's just that you'd never hear the end of it if my dad saw your clothes were too big." I nod silently. "Can you walk alright?" I nod again, standing up gradually and we walk to the dining room for dinner.