𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 // 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺

the letter and the rose

Today was the day Harry was supposed to give a response to all the boys. He fixed the collar of his shirt in the bathroom mirror and tried to settle down the atrocious mop of hair on his head.

When he left the bathroom, his eyes caught the vase again. He froze in his steps when he saw six flowers instead of five.

He stepped forward to pick the new flower, a gasp leaving his lips as his fingers traced the delicate and fragile petals.

It was a black rose. It looked beautiful and elegant. So unique and magnificent in it's own way.

For him, it was the most beautiful rose ever.

His green eyes fell down to a neatly folded parchment sitting next to the vase. He opened it and sat on his bed, curiously reading the words.

Dear Scarface,

I've been keeping this to myself for quite a while now. I was scared that I might ruin our newly blossomed friendship, or maybe I'd scare you off.

This past week has been torture for me, seeing those boys close to you and kissing your cheek made me feel terrible. I really wished I was the one in their place and have the courage to say all of this to you in person or maybe even kiss your cheek.

But sadly, I'm too much of a coward, Harry.

I really like you Harry.

I like everything about you. From your smile, your green eyes and even your messy hair.

I don't know how you feel about me. But if you do feel the same for me, meet me at the Black Lake at 4 pm.

If you won't come, I'll understand.

Yours and only yours,

Draco Malfoy