Living In My Head (Drarry)

Chapter 32: Actions I Regret

A.N.

Chapter song: Already Over pt. 2 by Red

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We head into the dining room only to find the table is already set and his parents are already eating. His mother gives Draco a small smile but his father doesn't spare him a glance, stabbing another piece of steak with his fork and putting it delicately in his mouth. I sit beside Draco, across from his father who gives Draco a foul look the second he sits down.

"Glad you finally joined us, Draco." The sound of that phrase sent shivers down my spine. His voice seemed so disgusted. Even Uncle Vernon never used that kind of acidic tone with me.

"Harry and I were changing, we had been playing soccer for the last few hours."

"Who won?" his tone was sharp and mockingly curious.

"I don't know, I wasn't keeping track-"

"Draco did, he won by two. We had planned to play longer but," I weighed my options and a white lie seemed the best way to go as Milton served dishes to Draco and I. It's not like I can come right out and tell them I had a panic attack for no rhyme or reason without being asked questions. "I could barely stand, I'm extremely out of shape, you know. Playing that long just about killed me."

I put a bite of steak in my mouth to end the subject. How can Mr. Malfoy just hork it down when it should be savored? Damn stupid, these rich people. I watch Draco eat slowly, a small smile on his face as he chews. God, Draco, don't smile like that. It's hard enough not jumping your bones when we're alone. As if he knew I was thinking about him, he gave my foot a light kick under the table.

No, we will not play footsie.

Kick.

Your parents are right there, Draco.

Kick.

Draco, stop it.

Kick-kick.

I gave him a look of exasperation and he grinned contentedly, taking a bite of his peas. Smug little shit. I put my arm under the table and pinch a bit of skin on his inner thigh. He lets out a small yelp, muffled by the spoon in his mouth, and I try to not react to it. We're acting like children. Very girlish children. His parents obviously didn't hear the noise because they don't even look up.

We finish dinner quietly with little to no incident, and when I'm about to stand to head back to Draco's room, Mr. Malfoy speaks up. "There's a party that starts after dinner tomorrow night, be sure to be showered, dressed, downstairs, and mingling when the party starts. That means no monopolizing each other, talk to other people too." That almost sounded like good humor, he really should work on that.

Draco nodded uncommittedly and once we reached his room, he gave me a strange look. "You lied to my dad earlier."

"No I didn't." I muttered, pulling off my shirt.

"What's the real reason you were so exhausted earlier?"

I felt myself freeze and goosebumps rise on my arms before I turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said sharply then stopped, clearing his throat and talking softer, "You were shaking... bad, and on top of that you had a really scared look in your eyes."

I wanted to say something, anything, to defend myself but nothing would come out of my mouth. I felt like I was gasping for something to say, something that would put ths both of us at ease, but nothing seemed to be in my grasp.

"I was just freaking out a little."

"Like at school?"

"It wasn't that severe but yeah."

"Was it a panic attack?" he asks gently, putting his hand on my shoulder.

I wanted to say no, but my mouth betrayed me. "It's not that big of a deal, I'm coping."

"Coping and living are two different things."

"Your dad doesn't like me very much, does he?"

"You're changing the subject."

"I mean I don't think I did anything particularly wrong, did I?"

"Harry."

"Then again, I am a scholarship kid with no dignity to my name."

"Harry..."

"He'd probably like me better if I'd bought my own clothes today."

"Harry!" his voice was sharp and I immediately regretted trying to change the subject. He looked hurt. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

"I remember too much and it's my biggest weakness. I see too much in people's eyes and voices and their intentions are much too clear to me, it freaks me out. I see my past and I can feel everything I did then. Then there's you, I never know what the hell you're thinking or trying to accomplish by helping a reject like me," without warning, I felt my eyes burn. "So tell me, what do you want from me?"

"I want the truth. I can never get close if you push me away or lie to me."

"I can't, not now..." my voice faded and he gave me a sympathetic look.

"I understand, you can tell me when you're ready."

I'm turning my back when he spins me around and hugs me. I'm close, our faces next to each other and his arms around my neck. I feel his heartbeat a little through his shirt. I wrap my arms around his back and pull him closer. We're too close, way too close. I can smell his cologne, something musky and a vague scent of new leather, and his deoderant. I'm glad I can't see his face because the utter bliss I'm in would show easily on my face.

"I'm here whenever you need me." he pulls back from me and looks at me before wiping the tears off my face with his palm.

I feel my insides twist and pull like taffy, I stare briefly into his eyes and before I know what I'm doing, I kiss him. I pull him close again, clinging to his shirt as I feel my tears start falling again. He doesn't kiss back, just standing there in shock. I pull away, my heart in pieces as I take off my pants, not even bothering to put pants over my boxers and crawl into bed. I hear his quiet footsteps as he leaves the room with some clothes and comes back a few minutes later. He gets in his bed, facing away from me and I feel so stupid for doing what I did. Who would love someone as broken as I am?

"Goodnight, Harry." his voice sounds unsure but not at all angry.

Tears of relief pour out as I try to hold my voice steady. "Goodnight, Draco. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

He forgives me, thank God. I don't know what I'd do if he never talked to me again. Or kicked me under the table, or played soccer with me, or hugged me, or looked at me with those beautiful grey eyes, or felt the warmth of his smile...

...shit, I'm in love with him.