A Ghost's Wish [MxM]

31. Moonlight

His concern had deepened because Draco seemed distant suddenly. The circles under his eyes proved that he had trouble sleeping.

Oliver bit his lip hesitantly but climbed on the railing and balanced himself as he walked toward Draco's. With a practiced leap, he softly landed on Draco's balcony. He felt improper as he looked into the glass doors and admonished himself for acting like a sleazy old ghost.

However, that feeling disappeared when he saw Draco tensing and thrashing in his sleep. Oliver opened the balcony doors and rushed to him. He crawled onto the bed and cradled Draco's head.

"Draco," he murmured. "Wake up for me."

However, the nightmare had a tight hold on Draco, and he didn't hear Oliver's words.

"Draco? My dragon? Wake up, please." He pleaded, but the result was the same.

Nothing seemed to wake him, not pushing his shoulder or words of affirmation. Oliver was at a loss but then remembered how Draco's old advisor used to hum an old song when Draco would become angry.

He didn't know the song's origins, but it was a tune he would never forget. So he held Draco, running his fingers through his raven black hair, and hummed the melody.

A tremble had run through Draco's body, and he released a shuddering breath. Oliver remained with him, feeling how his body relaxed within his embrace. His hands had moved from his hair and started to trace his chin. His fingers lingered on the scar on his jaw.

"Draco?" Oliver whispered, his eyes falling on his lips. He felt a heat rush through him as his finger lightly brushed against his lips.

He was captivated by the sleeping man and had leaned forward, just a hair's breadth away from his lips. He wanted to kiss him but repressed his amorous cravings and pulled away. It was bad enough that he broke into Draco's room. It would be worst if he stole a kiss.

Shameless old Ghost.

Oliver sighed, and instead of kissing Draco's lips, he brushed his lips against Draco's forehead.

He pulled away entirely and stood by the balcony for a moment, ensuring that Draco rested peacefully. He decided tomorrow he would talk to him about his indiscretion of entering his room... but perhaps he will keep the almost-kiss to himself.

He stepped back out on the balcony, ensuring the doors were shut firmly behind him. The snow had stopped falling at this point, but it left a thick cover. Oliver was still unfazed by the cold, even without shoes or a shirt; only the fog from his breath revealed the freezing temperatures.

He couldn't bring himself to sleep again. He scaled over the balcony railing and carefully climbed down the wall until he hit the ground.

He made his way to the training grounds and picked up two wooden swords. He started slowly practicing his sword movements with nothing but the moonlight and snow to accompany him.

Oliver continued until, deep in the night, the snowfall had come and gone several times. A few more inches of snow had piled up, but he was too immersed in the sword to realize. However, his feet couldn't keep up with his mind, and he stumbled. He landed on his knees, and he let out a sharp gasp. His chest was tight, and his breath was unstable. He leaned on his swords as he tried to ease the burn he felt in his lungs.

Suddenly, a heavy cape was draped on his shoulders, and two strong arms wrapped around him.

"What in the hells are you doing?" Draco's furious voice rumbled behind Oliver.

A tired laugh left Oliver's lips. "Couldn't sleep."

"Fool. Can you even get up?"

Oliver examined his body and sighed. "No."