Stay With Me

Chapter 18

"Two fresh-out-the-oven almond croissants, as per usual, and there's a little treat in there for you later." Draco said passing the bag over to Harry, who peered inside, his eyes lighting up at the sight of an apple danish.

Harry placed the bag on the counter behind him and stepped in closer to Draco, who was still wrapped up in his coat, hat and Gryffindor scarf. Harry pulled the hat from his head, admiring the mess of platinum hair that always gave Draco that gorgeous, effortless sex appeal. Draco unwrapped the scarf from around his neck and pulled off his coat.

"You're freezing," Harry said, pressing his body against Draco's, "The tip of your little nose is like ice."

"Well, it's Winter, what do you expect? And we're living on the coast now, you can't step outside anymore without being beaten about by the wind." Draco chuckled, closing his eyes as Harry kissed the tip of his nose, then brought their foreheads together.

"Still stretching out my jumper, I see?"

"Stretching out?" Harry gasped, his lips curling to a smile, "This is all muscle under here, I'll have you know."

"Is it now? Not the treacle tarts you sneak in after I leave for work?"

"Cheeky bastard." Harry smirked, placing a soft kiss on Draco's lips.

"Are you working tonight?"

"Yeah, three o'clock, but it's a Sunday so it won't be busy, just the regulars. Why don't you come down and sit at the bar, bring Padfoot too."

"Alright," Draco stretched his back and brought the mug of tea to his chest, "I'll take him for a walk mid-afternoon and then stop by."

At that moment, the pitter-patter of paws joined them in the kitchen, a shaggy black pup wandered in lazily in search of food and stopped at Harry's heels. Harry bent down, obliging to the command for head scratches and looked back up at Draco from below, "I'll have a mulled cider waiting for you then."

It wasn't just being indoors that was warming Draco through, it was Harry snuggled in his Slytherin jumper, making tea in the kitchen of their cottage. It was their tradition of fresh croissants on a Sunday morning. It was Padfoot circling their legs needing endless attention. It was their cosy home, the privacy he'd yearned for, for years, the simplicity of their new life.

When things had reached breaking point, they ran. Life in London had been cruel to Draco, and Harry couldn't escape the pain of the war whilst everyone glorified him as a hero. They'd left the wizarding world behind, and moved to a quaint muggle village in the south of Cornwall.

The change was difficult at first, but over time they settled into their new life. Harry got a job at the local pub, and was initially nervous that he would slip back into bad drinking habits, but the warmth and kindness of the regulars, with their big hearts and hilarious stories helped him stay above the water.

Draco had found a part-time job at a bookstore, working alongside the owner, Albert, who was more like a friend to him than a boss. He spent his days organising books, reviewing them, setting up displays and chatting with customers. After most shifts, he would wander down the road to The Red Lion pub with Padfoot, where Harry would usually be working, to have a small drink, cinnamon cider, and occasionally join in a game of darts or pool with the locals. Harry loved the sweet taste on Draco's lips whenever they kissed on their walk back home under the moonlight.

They'd been welcomed into the village with open arms, and finally felt like they had a home. Nobody knew they were wizards, and they intended to keep it that way, aside from the occasional use of magic within their home, they were comfortable with their new way of life.