"I Write My Own Story"

Neuf

TW: PANIC ATTACK

"Draco?" Harry had been talking with the boy in the Room of Requirement, when suddenly, his voice faltered and he fell silent.

"Draco?" Harry tried again. "Are you okay?"

Draco shook his head vigorously as his breathing sped up. He wasn't sure what had triggered it, but his brain decided it was a good time to have a panic attack.Maybe a nerve had misfired or something.

Harry unaware of what to do, grasped Draco's hands, in hopes it would help. It took a few minutes, but Draco's breathing slowed and he collapsed into Harry's arms, worn out. Panic attacks take a lot of energy, believe it or not.

"What was that?" Harry asked softly as he wrapped his arms around Draco's limp body.

"Panic attack." Draco replied quietly. "Tiring."

"Draco," Harry said softly. "I know that you've been here for me, but right now, I'm fine and you're not. Have you had anyone help you like you've helped me? Are you alright?"

Are you alright? That simple question echoed around his head before he felt tears well up in his eyes. "I don't know." He murmured, as silent tears streamed down his face. "I don't know what it means to be alright."

"Well then," Harry said quietly, grabbing Draco's face in his hands. "I hope I can help you the way you're helping me." Leaning forward, Harry captured Draco's lips in a kiss.

So this is what it feels like to be loved, Draco thought as he leaned in and his eyes fluttered shut. It feels... really warm. And comfortable. He wrapped his arms around Harry, bringing him closer. Harry placed his arms around his neck. It's nice. I never want it to stop.

When the two broke the kiss, they locked eye contact, forheads resting together. It wasn't intense, or threatening. It was just comfortable. Draco had never seen so much love in someone's eyes, much less directed at him. But he decided, he was fine with it.

And for once in his life, Draco felt alright.

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Harry and Draco continued meeting for a month after Draco's breakdown, and all was well. They were very close, and Harry had taken to writing about their meetings, and just about Draco in general. When he was upset, or felt like hurting himself, he would take out his journal and write about his boyfriend. He assumed that's what they were, though they never put a label on it. It wasn't really necessary.

Draco however, drew. The Slytherin's each had a singular room, and his was filled with rough sketches of the boy. There was one taped to the wall that was a poem Harry had written for him, and he had used watercolors to paint beautiful designs on the edges of the paper, making the words pop.

Though, Draco hated to admit it, Harry had a way with words that he never could. He wouldn't be surprised if his lover went on to be an author of sorts.

Thinking about it, not much had changed. The boys were both still obsessing over each other. The only thing that had changed was the reason why.

HOLY FRICK I HAVE INTERNET BET READY I HAVE OVER 5 MORE CHAPTERS DONE AND READY TO POST OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS BECAUSE  I JUST WORKED ON THIS FANFICTION WHILE I HAD NO CONNECTION