This Feels Like Falling in Love || Drarry

7: The Aftermath

Hello readers! I hope you've enjoyed so far :D
BEFORE YOU START: TW?CW of offensive language (the F slur, I'm sorry) and mature content (BUt nothing too bad idk how to write that... yet)
The TW is in bold before the part in the chapter.
THANK YOU!!

I can't, sweetheart, I'm sorry.
He felt a soft hand swipe his hair away, he leaned into the touch.
Draco was curled up next to him, his head resting on Harry's chest. Harry's arms wrapped around the smaller boy's shoulders and rested in his hair, rubbing circles into his scalp. Their legs were tangled together under the warm blankets. Draco smelled of citrus and mint, his cologne was faint in the background. And something else? Something  a little sweet but still bitter.
Harry took a deep breath, Draco's scent disappeared and his senders were filled with the bittersweet smell.
He opened his eyes a sliver. Light filled his vision, blinding him. His head started to pound, pain filled him.
He reached for Draco but was met with a squished pillow instead.
"Ugh come on." Harry groaned, burying his head into the pillow he had grabbed. He spent another 30 minutes trying to fall back asleep, back into his dream world, but his pounding headache denied him the pleasure of dreaming. He rolled out of bed harshly, noticing that he was still in the same clothes from last night.
He sniffed, smelling the bittersweet scent of alcohol on him.
So that's what it was...
He grabbed clean clothes and a towel and went to shower off the previous night.
While the water fell down his back, his mind wandered. He searched for memories of the party but came up blank.
He remembered his feelings though. He remembered feeling warm with nerves. He remembered feeling free. He remembered disappointment.
Shit. What happened last night.
He got out of the shower and pulled on a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a large black t-shirt. The shirt hung off of his shoulder, must've been clothing from the Dursley's that he had never gotten rid of.
Oh well, changing is too much work.
He dried his hair with the towel, leaving it messy, and draped the towel over his shoulders, letting it collect the drops of water left on his hair.
Harry walked down to the common room to make a pot of coffee, hoping it would cure his hangover.
Once he had his cup he sat on the couch. A few people were walking around, chatting quietly about the party. He listened to their whispers while he sipped on the hot drink.
"Yeah, I saw Harry and ... almost kiss" He heard someone whisper to their friend.
"No way!"
Harry leaned closer, hoping to catch the other person's name, although he had a suspicion that he knew who it was.
"Yeah and then Draco brought him to the dorms. Who knows what happened then."
He heard the two laugh and sunk into the couch.
What the fuck had happened last night.
___________________
Draco woke up late. Sunlight struggled to light the room through the dark curtains. He dragged himself out of bed and opened the curtains, plopping back down on his bed afterward.
Draco stared out the window at the snowy field.
Quidditch didn't allow the 8th years on the team. They were 'too old' in the headmasters' eyes.
He had lost that form of escape.
He subconsciously rubbed the mark on his forearm, turning away from the window and grabbing a sweater to throw on over his thin t-shirt.
The sweater was big on him, hiding his physical form and burying his hands in the long sleeves.
He walked slowly down the stairs to the common room. The first thing he saw was Harry on the couch. Of course.
Draco took his time admiring the other boy. His shirt was way too big for him and had slipped off one of his shoulders, revealing strong muscle and smooth skin. A towel was laid over his other shoulder, his hair shaggy and damp. His head was rested on the back of the couch and his eyes closed. He was definitely nursing a hangover.
Draco stayed on the stairs staring at the other boy for minutes before Harry spotted him. The dark-haired boy smiled and waved him over. Draco took a deep breath and made his way to the couch next to Harry.
"Hey," Harry said with a smile.
Draco nodded his response and sat. He was way too tired to deal with this right now.
Harry was still looking at him, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Draco planned to ignore the other boy but then Harry asked him a question.
"What happened last night?"
The simple question made Draco's face turn a deep red. Harry took that as a sign that something either very good or very bad had happened.
"Draco?"
"It was uh," Draco stuttered. "It was nothing. You got really drunk."
Harry could tell he was lying, or at least hiding the truth, but let it slide because of the public setting and his painful hangover.
Draco got up to get breakfast and didn't come back to the common room for hours.
Harry went to sleep early that night.
And when classes started again they forgot about it. The question was never brought up again and Harry went on with hours of his life missing from his memories.
___________________
January sped by. By the end of the month Draco and Harry were back in their normal routine; walking to classes together and studying late at night in the common room.
Draco was always watching his movements during the day, but at night, alone with Harry, he relaxed.
He allowed himself to sit closely with the taller boy. Their knees pressed together while they studied, their hands brushed together while explaining work, their shoulders wrapped together with a shared blanket while they relaxed by the fire.
Draco loved their nights together. He looked forward to it every day. But there was something sad about it. He was hiding his feelings from Harry. Only letting himself feel when he was alone.
And he now knew how Harry felt, or what he thought he felt. Harry had confessed and has no memory of it.
It hurt Draco to lie to him, but he knew it's what's best rather than a drunken confession.