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forty-two | feelings

~no pov

It was time for Draco to confess how he felt about Potter. He was forced to by Blaise and Pansy, with threat that his balls would be chopped off if he didn't.

There was only so much of summer he could spend denying his growing attraction for Potter. There was a month or so left, and his heart was bursting at the seams. 

He physically couldn't take hiding it anymore.

His anxiety told him that the brunet would rather chop off both his arms and get a nice belly button piercing with a six-inch knife than be with the blond. But if he didn't feel the same, Draco would use the age-old excuse, 'it was a dare'. 

Harry was ready to use his 'Gryffindor Bravery' and confess to Draco, but his anxiety was digging a pit in his stomach and kept digging the more he thought about it. It told him that Draco would rather get his entire body tattooed and then jump in salt water if Harry even dared to go near him.

They were both stressing, but how could they hide anymore? There were feelings, strong feelings that were undeniable and fierce. If the boys didn't confess, their bodies would. 

"So, Potter, want to get blackout drunk?"

This was not how Draco usually broke the silence in their field. 

"Sure."

This was not how Harry usually replied to alcohol offers.

He was in public. The field was outside. Anyone could come and harass him, or hurt him again. He was afraid, but he needed liquid courage.

"Great." Draco pulled out a bottle of Absolut Vodka, with an alcohol percentage of fifty, to get himself wasted. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, taking a painful amount of the clear liquid at once.

Harry was bewildered. Was that what he looked like when trying to get drunk? 

It wasn't that Draco looked weird. No, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Yes, he looked like an alcoholic, but he was a pretty one. 

The blond scrunched up his face. Vodka tasted like ass. 

nope i do not look like that

"My turn, Ferret." 

Harry was given the bottle rather harshly, and with a punch to the arm too. Draco didn't miss the subtle flinch that the boy reacted with, nor did he miss the way Harry's eyes squeezed shut the moment Draco's fist met his arm.

Please, some day, tell me what happens at home? I know it's not perfect, but I would never judge. I love you, I think.

"Rude."

Harry tipped his head back and took an agonising amount of vodka. His face almost scrunched up, but he stopped himself. Being unreactive was imperative in an abusive household.

Besides, Harry was an unproud alcoholic. Coping unhealthily is the best way to cope, after all. 

Before Draco could get his vodka back, Harry had already decided to try chug the bottle. It wasn't a wise idea, since that shit burns.

A quarter of the bottle was gone. The blond was frowning, wondering whether he should be worried or pissed.

What are you trying to drown out?

"I need to tell you something." Harry blurted out after the alcohol began to hit him.

"Funny, so do I."

"You first."

Draco's anxiety was bubbling in his stomach like an active volcano preparing to erupt. Unfortunately, the lava was his feelings, and they were escaping. "I like you."

"I like you too?"

"No, stupid." He rolled his eyes. "I like you. Like like. Falling in love even."

I'm in love with you but it's too soon to admit that. Besides, you're not even into me. I'm doing this to protect my balls.

"Like.. romantically?" Harry was in shock. He'd never had a love confession before. He didn't know what to do or say.

"Yes." Draco breathed out. "I've been crushing on you for a while now. You make me feel okay, and like the world isn't the worst place in the world. You're like a light in my life. I can't go without seeing your stupid smile, or your dorky glasses or questionable outfits.

Your voice has me entranced, like I could listen to you talk for hours. I want to hear your voice all the time, and your laugh. It's so perfect. I feel like the sky could fall and the mountains could collapse but it would all be okay if you laughed while it happened.

And you would. You so would. You'd laugh, and it'd make me laugh. And I'd smile at you, like I always do, because you made me love smiling. Around you, I feel safe. I know I wouldn't be judged for anything by you. 

And I would never judge you either. I know you have your issues that you never talk about, and I'll always be here to listen. Not just because your voice has me weak, but because I care about you. I'd chop off my own hand if it meant you could be free from every burden you have. I'd chop off my own leg if you asked me to.

Harry, I would do anything for you, because I am so fucking in love, maybe, with you. You're staring at me right now, like I killed your owl, but it's okay because I love your eyes. They're beautiful, and perfect. And you are too.

I know this is corny, a bit much even, but I had to say it because if I didn't I'd lose my mind, and my balls, but you wouldn't understand that part.

And I'm sorry if you find this gross, or weird, or completely off-putting, and you don't have to say anything. If you don't feel the same, that's fine. If you want me to get the fuck away from you and never talk to you again, I will. 

I hope I didn't ruin us."

Draco let out a breath after that, like he'd been holding it in for months. And it felt like he had. Like he'd held it in since he came to the realisation that he was in love with Harry James Potter. 

He was scared, so scared. The anxiety was back, and stronger than ever. The bubbles turned into knives, and they were stabbing at his stomach over and over, and then his chest, and his throat, and his mind. 

Everything physically hurt, and he was afraid he'd have an anxiety attack right there and then. He wasn't brave, he was a coward. This was why he was a coward. Because being brave got you stuck on a field with the boy you love, staring at you like you're a serial killer.

Before Harry could reply and confess his own feelings, and potentially start a relationship with the blond, he'd gotten up and ran, leaving his vodka and a paralysed brunet in the grass.

i'm so fucking in love, maybe, with you too