Whispers for the Dark
Lie to Me
The stone wall was rough against his back, the uneven edges of the bricks caught at the thin layers of robe and he felt them tear small holes. He groaned under his breath, the sharp edge of an unusually sharp rock was digging in between his shoulder blades, but suddenly, he didn't care.
A cold hand found the neck of his robes, teasing it open, the fingers finding the soft skin of his collar bone. He could hear his heart in his ears, and he could feel the warm breath against his flushed cheeks. Pale lips caught the light, parted in a whisper, so close to his own.
A terrible weight was lifting off of his shoulders, and he knew that the pain of reality was just hovering over his head, waiting to descend.
A finger stroked his neck.
'It doesn't matter,' he thought anxiously. And it didn't. This wasn't real. This rushed embrace, this hot, heavy kiss.
It's not real.
The breath on his cheeks was ragged, and hoarse, the thin fingers were behind his head, pulling his face closer and closer. Another hand was on his chest, moving down...
Harry's breath caught. A heartbeat, was it his? He felt the icy hands slip under his shirt, wrapping around his waist, pulling him ever closer.
And he was pushing closer, his own hands, wrapped around the familiar neck, his lips so close, and yet...not quite touching.
"Kiss me." came a whisper in his ear.
Harry suddenly relaxed in Draco Malfoy's arms, and he felt a lazy smile cross his lips. He raised his brilliant green eyes to look into the colder gray eyes of the boy, and then he whispered something of his own,
"Lie to me." he demanded softly.
The answer, when it came, was like a soft bite on his neck.
"I love you."
And then their lips met.
A cold hand found the neck of his robes, teasing it open, the fingers finding the soft skin of his collar bone. He could hear his heart in his ears, and he could feel the warm breath against his flushed cheeks. Pale lips caught the light, parted in a whisper, so close to his own.
A terrible weight was lifting off of his shoulders, and he knew that the pain of reality was just hovering over his head, waiting to descend.
A finger stroked his neck.
'It doesn't matter,' he thought anxiously. And it didn't. This wasn't real. This rushed embrace, this hot, heavy kiss.
It's not real.
The breath on his cheeks was ragged, and hoarse, the thin fingers were behind his head, pulling his face closer and closer. Another hand was on his chest, moving down...
Harry's breath caught. A heartbeat, was it his? He felt the icy hands slip under his shirt, wrapping around his waist, pulling him ever closer.
And he was pushing closer, his own hands, wrapped around the familiar neck, his lips so close, and yet...not quite touching.
"Kiss me." came a whisper in his ear.
Harry suddenly relaxed in Draco Malfoy's arms, and he felt a lazy smile cross his lips. He raised his brilliant green eyes to look into the colder gray eyes of the boy, and then he whispered something of his own,
"Lie to me." he demanded softly.
The answer, when it came, was like a soft bite on his neck.
"I love you."
And then their lips met.