Nowhere Else to Go

Chapter 11

Harry woke up late that afternoon, when the sun had already set. He had gotten fairly hungry, figured he might as well make some dinner for himself and Draco. He went downstairs and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the kitchen. It hadn't been so clean in at least half a year. It was practically spotless. He smiled a little to himself. He knew it was Draco trying to chip in a little, or maybe just feel a bit less guilty about staying here with Harry. Either way, he appreciated it.

He started cooking steak and rice, sure to make enough for the two of them. He set out a plate for himself and another for Draco. He pulled out a bottle of wine as well for the hell of it, and he knew Draco could sure use a little bit of a break from his own head. He poured two glasses before walking up the stairs to get Draco. He knocked on the door. Nothing. Draco was likely back asleep, which he was grateful for. He supposed he'd just put the leftovers in the fridge so Draco could eat whenever he woke up. He went back downstairs and sat down, letting out a soft sigh. Another meal alone, why the hell not. He finished off his glass of wine as well as Draco's, and put the rest in the fridge. He opened a bottle of tequila and took it up to his room, sitting down in his bed and drinking a few shots worth right off the bat. He set it on his nightstand and rested his head back against the wall.

He had several mixed feelings about Draco. He was sweet, yes, but so closed off. And that damn night they hadn't mentioned since Harry showed up; back at the bar all those months ago. He knew Draco remembered. At least, he cared to remember the address. He couldn't help his growing feelings for the guy. How could he? He could see Draco. He saw the good and the bad. He saw through his cold exterior and the heart of gold he guarded so carefully. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that Draco continued to hold a grudge against him for their time at Hogwarts.

He finally decided to call it a night, after a few more shots and a world of restless thoughts.

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Harry woke the next morning with a terrible hangover. "Fuck" he muttered, sitting up and closing his eyes tight. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. He had an important meeting at noon for his novel.

He made his way down to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee. He glanced up at the time and furrowed his brows. Could Draco really still be asleep? It was nearly ten o clock and there was no trace of him. He finished off his coffee and poured a second cup for Draco. He walked upstairs to go check on him, knocking gently on the door. "Malfoy" he said, letting out a soft sigh. "Hey, I have coffee for you. Open up" he knocked again. Silence. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm coming in" he said, waiting another moment before pushing the door open.

He scanned the room. Draco was not in the bed. In fact, it was neatly made. He stepped inside and glanced across the room. Maybe he just left early this morning? He bit his lip and shook his head, spinning on his heel and turning around. It wasn't like Draco to just leave. He hadn't left the house since he arrived, and he was still in a terrible state. He cursed under his breath and went into his room to change. He grabbed his coat and left the apartment, heading to the meeting. He couldn't be distracted with Draco's whereabouts right now, but he could not stop thinking about Draco Malfoy. Was he safe? Did he just leave? Would he ever come back? He took a deep breath and shook off his thoughts. He really could not afford to waste his time overthinking.

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Harry survived the interview, but not five minutes passed without Draco fucking Malfoy concerning him. Why the hell did he care so much anyways? Draco probably just found a job and decided it was time to support himself again. He got home and glanced around, still no sign of Draco. Who was he kidding, Draco definitely left him without a word. He wouldn't put it past him anyways. He went into his office to work on his novel. He really did need to get his mind off of Draco and the best way to do that was to write.

9:45 pm. That's what time it was when Harry's hunger forced him to get out of his chair and make himself something to eat. Unfortunately, the moment he tore his gaze from his computer his worry returned, tainting his conscious mind. He tugged at his hair and grabbed an apple, walking back upstairs. He needed to write more. It was the only way to shut off his nerves. Distraction. A temporary solution to a temporary problem. He wrote, and wrote. And he didn't stop writing until he could hardly keep his eyes open.

2:55 am. Harry stood and sauntered into Draco's room. He had to check. He had to know, if he had for some damn reason come back home. Still nothing. He sat down on Draco's bed and looked around. He couldn't even tell if Draco would be coming back, the guy didn't own a single thing to leave behind anyways. He closed his eyes and laid down, falling asleep in the uncomfortable emptiness of what had been Draco's room.