A/NThis is the first time I try to write something in English (I'm an Italian fanwriter, so, of course, I usually write in my mother tongue), but when I saw marguerite_26's post I thought: “Hey, this is easy and friendly, I could try!” My written English sucks, but I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. *-*-*-*
“Why are we here?” he asks sharply. Despite their new and still awkward friendship, Draco doesn't want to be alone with him: it's his birthday party and he came here with her. “We should go back inside, or your Weasley would miss you.”
He's angry and jealous - he doesn't care if his feelings are irrational, if being finally friends is not enough, if he has no right to be jealous.
“Can't we stay here for a minute?” Harry doesn't look at him, keeps his eyes fixed on the ground. “Please,” says in a whisper. “Just for a minute.”
Draco remains quiet, because everyday a little, ridiculous part of him continues to hope. He bites his lower lip, thinking that he doesn't want Potter return back to her.
They stay in the garden for a while, not speaking each other.
Draco closes his eyes and inhales deeply – it's a March evening and he can smell the daffodil perfume.
“This is my mother's garden,” he says quietly. “Do you smell the daffodils? The Narcissus?”
He feels numb - for the daffodil perfume, for being so close to him, for... He feels fingers on his neck, a breath against his face and then Potter is kissing him gently.
“Please,” says Potter against his lips. “Please.”
And now Draco is really numb and asks himself why on earth Potter should ever say "please".
“I want you to-” he whispers, kissing him in the daffodil perfume that lingers in the air. “I want you.”
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branchandroot
Draco/Harry – Daffodils – Pg - 235
Date: 2012-03-26 11:02 pm (UTC)My written English sucks, but I hope I didn't make too many mistakes.
*-*-*-*
“Why are we here?” he asks sharply. Despite their new and still awkward friendship, Draco doesn't want to be alone with him: it's his birthday party and he came here with her. “We should go back inside, or your Weasley would miss you.”
He's angry and jealous - he doesn't care if his feelings are irrational, if being finally friends is not enough, if he has no right to be jealous.
“Can't we stay here for a minute?” Harry doesn't look at him, keeps his eyes fixed on the ground. “Please,” says in a whisper. “Just for a minute.”
Draco remains quiet, because everyday a little, ridiculous part of him continues to hope. He bites his lower lip, thinking that he doesn't want Potter return back to her.
They stay in the garden for a while, not speaking each other.
Draco closes his eyes and inhales deeply – it's a March evening and he can smell the daffodil perfume.
“This is my mother's garden,” he says quietly. “Do you smell the daffodils? The Narcissus?”
He feels numb - for the daffodil perfume, for being so close to him, for... He feels fingers on his neck, a breath against his face and then Potter is kissing him gently.
“Please,” says Potter against his lips. “Please.”
And now Draco is really numb and asks himself why on earth Potter should ever say "please".
“I want you to-” he whispers, kissing him in the daffodil perfume that lingers in the air. “I want you.”