Drarry Oneshots (𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆)

in a faith forgotten land

Top! Harry

Bottom! Draco

Author: drarrydemented (on ao3)

___________________

"And the old widow goes
to the stone everyday,
but I don't,
I just sit here and wait,
grieving for the living."

—

Being under the sheets and sleeping beside him have always felt suffocating to Draco.

A weak sigh slipped past his lips and he curled tightly to himself, desperately seeking for the lost sense of comfort he was promised since the day of their marriage. The warmth and the feeling of contentment he should feel in their own bedroom, pressed against the heat of his husband's body beside him.

But he knew it could never be, he reflected, staring blankly at the sleeping figure next to him. Could never bring himself to. The silver band began to feel too tight around his finger as he fell deeper into regret.

The sheets felt too hot and he felt smothered. In his own house. His own bed. His own marriage — and he wanted out. With that in mind, he threw the blankets off of him and stood up, leaving the room without sparing a single glance behind him. He all but ran to the direction of the kitchen as quietly as he could, fetching himself a cold glass of water and downing it all in one go. He squeezed the counter tight until his knuckles turned white , glaring at the wedding band on his finger as though it was the root of all his misery. In a way, it was.

Merlin, how had he ended up like this? Oh, yes. After the war, he vividly remembered clinging to the nearest rich man who was willing to take him despite his past. Married someone he had never loved, mindlessly hoping he'd learn to do so in the long run — never did. Was only made to fuck in the night disregarding whether he even wanted to, or not. Shown off at grand events like a particularly expensive watch, a silent way to convey, hey, I took this Death Eater scum in and let him have my surname, I'm a great man. It made him sick. Everything about his life made him sick.

He could leave and he could do it now. Pack up quietly and leave without a notice. Get out of England. Hide. He could do it now and nobody would know. He would be painted the villain in someone else's story once again. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

He put the empty glass down, the sound of glass against marble drowned out by his harsh breathing and the blood rushing in his ears.

"Trouble in paradise, it seems."

His heart sank to his stomach. And the way he whirled around so suddenly felt too familiar to him, almost a deja vu moment. Save for the fact that instead of a dingy bathroom in an old castle, it was under the dimmed light of a sleek and modern kitchen, his stance unassuming with a relaxed and knowing look on his face and he certainly didn't have his wand out and ready to hex his face off.

But who would've thought Harry Potter would ever catch him having a mental breakdown on a sink once again.

He tensed when Harry walked closer only to open the fridge and get himself a bottle of milk. "Care to share? I'm bad at advices, but I can listen." he offered, regarding him with those irritatingly incandescent green eyes before he tipped his head back and chugged, his Adam's apple bobbing. Draco let his eyes wander down his sturdy figure shamelessly for a few seconds before he shook his head.

"I'm fine. It's just about something stupid."

"Stupid enough for you to be making that face? I doubt it. Come on, humor me."