Cicatrices- Marks That Remain

Proof

Happy Sunday. I'm Alive! I know it's been a long time. You wouldn't believe me if I told you everything that happened... But I'm alive! Unfortunately, I cannot promise a regular posting schedule, and for that, I am sorry. But! You Will get more updates! And This story Will get finished. I'm sorry that it's been so long...

Please let me know what y'all think! And, as always...Enjoy!

Harry woke with a start, images of death and pain evaporating into nothing but distant, fleeting dreams. He blinked, becoming aware of the cold, dried out trail of drool that had run down his cheek while he slept. His arms and back were in an uncomfortable, twisted position, and his glasses were digging into his face harshly.

He had fallen asleep over his case notes. The thought came like a dull thunk at his slowly waking mind.

He sat up, stretching out as he yawned. He scrubbed at his face, his glasses lifting for a few brief moments of relief on the spots where they'd created bright red pressure marks. Harry stood, then, taking stock of his surroundings. The living area was, to his surprise, significantly more picked up than he'd left it. The sheets on his sofa-bed were folded neatly. Various empty cups of tea were washed and put away, as well as the dishes he'd dirtied when he cooked. Then, he noticed that the plate he'd left Draco was also gone. Something in his chest warmed, at that. He knew then that Draco had come out of his room. Not only that, but he'd eaten. He'd even cleaned up after Harry's slobishness.

He glanced at the closed bedroom door, wanting more than anything to open it and-

He wasn't quite sure what, really. Only that he felt warm inside, and he was so beyond relieved to know that Draco had actually come out and eaten, and that he wanted to see him, and he itched to feel him against himself in some capacity.

He opted instead to retreat to the kitchen and make some breakfast, hoping that this time Draco would come out to eat with him.

He made eggs, bacon, and toast. Harry took his time with it, feeling the sun filter through the windows for what felt like the first time in ages. Despite the cold in the flat, The warmth Harry was feeling inside himself was enough to feel somewhat pleasant. He enjoyed the feeling. It was much preferred over drowning in murders and case files and complicated life problems.

When he finished preparing everything and approached Draco's room, he briefly worried that Draco would simply refuse to answer him again. His heart gave a rapid and shallow pace as he called for him, explaining that he'd made breakfast.

When Draco did open the door, his hair disheveld and soft in the morning light, Harry had to stop himself from tackling him in a hug. All at once, everything that happened the last time they'd seen each other came crashing back in his mind.

They watched each other silently, saying nothing yet everything. Draco looked like he'd slept badly, but slept nonetheless. Harry had question after question begging to be asked, yet remaining stuck in his head.

He found himself simply unable to speak.

"Thank you for the food." Draco was the first of them to speak. "Shall we go and eat it, now?"

Harry blinked, knocked from his stupor.

"I- Yes. Sorry." He stepped aside, allowing for Draco to go to the dining table.

"I see you cleaned up your case files."

"I see you cleaned up my entire mess," Harry responded, ignoring the shade or two of blush that adorned his face, now. "Thank you."