Impossible ↠Drarry

Chapter Fourty-Two

Draco slowly opened his eyes and looked at the scene before him. Bottles of Fire Whiskey surrounded the floor near the couch - but that's not at all what he currently cared about.
Something warm and soft was pushed against his back.

He swallowed, barely remembering anything from last night - let alone hardly being able to recognize where he was.

He slowly tried to slip out of the strong arms holding him, without disturbing whoever it was behind him.

He froze when he heard the opposite person mutter something.

"Hmm... Don't leave..."

Agreeing with the mystery boy, he slid back into the warm embrace, his eyes closing as he turned so his face was pushed against whoever's chest.
He could tell it was a male, but obviously they didn't care, so why should he?

He tried remembering last night, but his pounding headache kept him from thinking back, so he stopped trying. He just let himself be embraced by the person cuddling him.

"Draco?"

Draco's heart stopped. He knew that voice from anywhere - groggy or not. It couldn't be. This must be a dream. Because no. It was impossible.
He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, hoping maybe when he opened them again it would be real life.

But at the same time he wanted it to be real.
He... enjoyed the familiar comfort from this person - this person being Harry.
He enjoyed the familiar embrace. The familiar muscled arms...
But why did it feel so familiar?

"You can look at me, you know." Harry chuckled.

Draco slowly opened his eyes - yes. It was definitely a dream. Because two brilliant green eyes peered at him. Smiling back at him. And the messy black hair that fell just next to the scar on his forehead was soft. So soft between Draco's fingers, he hadn't even realized he was playing with it.

"Potter?"

"That's me," Harry bent forward and placed a gentle kiss on Draco's lips, but he pulled back, frowning, "you don't remember, do you?" His voice cracked.

Harry knew it was too good to be true. He knew Draco wouldn't remember, just by silly little stories of their relationship. He knew... oh, he knew... but he hoped, hoped so, so much, that maybe, just maybe, it was enough to get him to remember.

Because last night, when Harry looked into Draco's eyes after the kiss, it was the same Draco he remembered from before.  The same Draco that helped him fall asleep when he had a nightmare. The same Draco that danced with him... the same Draco he fell in love with.

"Maybe you could... remind me?" Draco didn't mean to say that.
Or maybe he did.

He honestly didn't know. His head was pounding, but he knew for a fact Harry's soft lips stopped the pounding for a second, as rediculous as it sounds.
He was on a hangover, yes. Surely he could blame it on that.
He should've told Harry to piss off, yes. That's what he meant to say.

Though, when Harry said "I can do that." With a sly smirk, Draco couldn't help but feel his heart flutter.

And when Harry placed his soft lips gently on Draco's, he couldn't help but kiss back.

It was all because of the hangover, yes.
He wasn't thinking straight. He'd blame it on that.
But for now, he didn't push Harry away. He kissed back.
And those lips, oh those lips, how they felt so familiar but so new at the same time made his stomach burst with butterflies.

He couldn't tell whether they were good or bad, but he didn't stop. And he knew then it wasn't a dream. It felt too real, too right.

*