Harry took a shower later that evening. His nose was a mess, having his third nosebleed today, but he couldn't bother – knowing the weather was awfully unpleasant. His head hurt all afternoon, and the burning sensation caused his lips to tingle, and Malfoy his words crept through his mind like a snake he was. You ruined me, it echoed through the bathroom – as if the walls could speak, and the water transported the sound waves. His voice low, and vibrating through every limp. Brushing his flattened hand through his sleeky, wetted hair, he pursed his lips as his back touched the cold tiles behind him. His eyes were closed. Thinking about his upcoming year, he frowned his brows – his body shuddering by the cold. Hermione told him to take a break after looking rather pale all day. Hardly ever freely to find her ideas most useful, he finally felt righteous to say so. Taking a shower allowed his muscles to find some ease, and to clear his mind from unwanted fantasies about his white-haired fellow student. His vision blurry, and his ears overwhelmed, he brushed his fingers down his lips – finding a pleasant taste on his tongue. Though he hardly allowed dirty fantasies to trail through his head, he sighed at a recognizable scent – matching Draco's skin.
"Fuck me," he cursed under his breath as he straightened his back – ready to turn off the shower.
"I bet you'd like that."
Harry almost slipped by agony, his hands gripping the cranes to stay steady on his feet. "What on this bloody earth are you-"
His voice shut down as he grabbed his towel – turning his head over his shoulder to find the blurry shadow from no red-haired boy called a Weasley, but a white-haired tall guy, his skin as pale it made him forget how to breathe.
"How did you get in here?"
The silhouette walked closer through the damp air – his white form falling down like a cloak.
"Who are you?" Harry muttered as his hand trailed across the wall to find the cabinet. "I will kill you Ron, really."
A soft laughter escaped the shadow its throat, and it seemed to slide something off its neck. "I told you I wanted to speak to you privately."
"Draco," Harry stated breathlessly. "No."
"Don't be afraid, you know a coward like me could never hurt you. The great Harry Potter."
"How are the others?" he snapped as he swept his hand along the counter – toothbrushes clattering down to the ground. "Where the fuck are my glasses!"
"Oh come on," Draco replied. He was smirking. "I came here for you. Alone. No one saw me."
"How convenient," Harry replied – the towel covering his parts for the greater good. "I'd like you to leave now. Goodbye." Trying to find the way out, his toes searched around for the edge of the bathtub. Meeting the ground, fabric wrinkled under his foot – buttons activating his pressure points, and he looked up as soon as he saw another piece of clothing falling down in front of him. "What are you doing?" He pulled his foot back – as if he thought to be safe between the small walls of the tub.
"The shower is still on," Draco replied in a whisper. "I thought, why not join you."
"Fuck off," Harry scoffed – expecting this to be a joke. "It's been fun, everyone. Now give me my glasses and get out. Who took my wand?"
The white silhouette known as Draco, took his position beside him now – tugging the shower curtains for a close, capturing them like a cocoon. And Harry stopped breathing. His eyesight became a little more clear at last – and at ones he could see the clear features of Draco Malfoy – revealing his naked body like a clear canvas.
"What's with the long face?" Draco smirked – titling his head to the side. Harry couldn't do anything. With his lips parted, and his lungs out of oxygen, his blood started to circulate much slower. Allowing hands to take his jawline, to enclose his features And then it came. The blinding kiss. The touch of skin to skin. And he couldn't move.