Drarry - It Was All Just a Game (REWRITE - MATURE VERSION)

CHAPTER 16 - BOXED IN

September passed in an exhausting blur of vivid, robbing nightmares, and of course a growing hatred for Umbridge the more and more his hand stung. Harry went through the motions most days, which was a saving grace because if he didn't, a nasty anger would take over. There was something about isolation and exhaustion that did that to you. However, running on autopilot also carried over onto dates with Draco.

They were fine. It was nice because Draco believed his story, but he also felt he needed to distance from him, too. Because it was like he was dragging Draco into the mess with him, and that wasn't Draco's burden to bear.

But what came along with that was the feeling of inadequacy, too. He wasn't being a good boyfriend, and that was something that just added to the pile of things that brought Harry down.

To make up for it, he tried going to the forest early on their dates so he could surprise him, however by time Draco made it there, Harry's eyes were already closed as he lay in the grass.

Draco pushed through the curtain of vines. He approached him and kneeled down next to him. "I see someone's excited for date night."

Harry blinked several times. Draco kissed him and finally Harry opened his eyes, only to close them in the sheer feeling of Draco's lips against his. "Sorry, 'm tired."

"I've noticed. You look awful." Draco sat back in a crisscross position. "You could use some moisturizer."

"Thanks, you're gorgeous as well," Harry's rolled his eyes. 

"Well, I know that," Draco smirked. "I'd rather be honest. But just to let you know, I can see the bags under your eyes from across the Great Hall." Harry just frowned and lay back, looking up at the darkening sky before closing his eyes once again. "Are you sure you're just tired? Is everything okay?"

Harry licked his lips. Draco didn't need to know he felt a presence with him, a darkness that seemed to take over his soul. Draco had been hurt enough because of Voldemort's return at the hand of his father, and he wasn't even involved with him. Draco also didn't need to know about the scar on his hand. No one did. "I haven't been sleeping well."

Draco glanced out at the lake, the sun setting behind it, and then back at Harry. He debated even bringing it up and making things worse. "Yeah, but... you look more than tired."

"Really?" Harry opened up an eye with a raised eyebrow. Maybe he could play it off and not have to face this conversation. "Why's that?"

"To be blunt, you look sad... depressed."

Harry just closed his eyes and turned his head away from him. "I'm fine."

"What's fine?"

"Everything. It's all good. I'm just tired."

Draco remained quiet for several moments. And then he challenged, "No, you're not."

Harry snapped back at him, his mood written on his face. "Then why don't you tell me what's wrong since you seem to know everything."

"I'm just asking," Draco raised his tone. "You can talk to me, you know. About what's bothering you."

"Nothing is—" He caught a look at Draco's glare. "Fine. Everything sucks when everyone hates you." Harry licked his lip, the back of his eyes stinging. He lay back on the blanket, the soft breeze bringing him no relief.

"Everyone hates me too," Draco said, trying to compare to him, but he knew that wouldn't bring much comfort. Draco still wasn't too good at this comforting thing, but he was trying his best.

"No. Everyone's afraid of you," Harry said. "Because you choose to make them that way. I didn't choose to go through everything last year."

Draco lay back, putting a hand in Harry's hair and stroking behind his ear.