"I should go," Draco says softly. He's lying with his chest against Harry's back, his knees tucked behind Harry's, an arm thrown haphazardly over him.
"Nnn," Harry shakes his head against the pillow, and he reaches behind himself to set a hand on Draco's thigh, lightly holding him in place. "Stay."
"Are you sure?"
"Stay."
"Okay...if you're sure."
Harry doesn't answer; he's already gone back to sleep with his arm twisted awkwardly back, his breathing even and deep.
Draco reaches down to lace their fingers together, bringing Harry's arm back around to rest in front of him on the pillow.
"Okay," he whispers.
It takes him a long time to fall asleep.
He wakes to Harry's soft smile in the morning, and there's a part him that wants to panic and run, but there's another part that wants to spend the entire Sunday in bed with Harry—listening to the pouring rain outside, reading a cheesy romance novel out loud to him in bed with as much dramatic flair as possible to make him laugh, watching Harry cook for them in nothing but his pants, kissing each other senseless, and indulging in multiple rounds of slow, intimate sex—which he does.
Something feels different between them after that.
Harry kisses him goodbye when he leaves after dinner. Tells him he hopes he has a good day at work the next day and brushes a finger over his cheek.
Draco tries not to think about what it all means.
YOU ARE READING
More Than a Memory
FanfictionIt's been six months since Draco made the worst mistake of his life. The memories of what he's lost are enough to bring him to his knees. Harry is trying to forget and move on, but it's easier said than done. Can they find their way back to each oth...
