Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy || Drarry

Chapter Two

Draco slid his hand along the edge of the mattress and the warm, soft flannel sheets. He opened one eye, letting it slowly focus on the dark blue bedsheets and breathed in the smell of someone else's laundry soap and sweat.

He moved slowly, slipping out of bed, making as little sound as possible as he padded on bare feet to collect his clothes from where they had fallen the night before. Draco pulled his wand out of the back pocket and carefully cast a series of charms to keep the room cool, quiet, and comfortable.

A bathroom was attached to the bedroom; Draco cast a silencing charm over himself and the bathroom door as he closed it behind himself. He was confronted with his own reflection in the mirror, his skin looking thin and shadows ringing under his eyes.

Draco turned his chin, "So he did cut my hair after all."

His silvery blond hair now had an off-centre part and was just long enough to reach just above his chin, rising slightly in a line as sharp as a ruler past his ear. His nape was shaved, fading into the slightly longer hair further up. It was familiar and but looked vaguely androgynous on his face in an underfed model sort of way.

Draco flipped open the mirror and pushed it open until it only reflected the wall. He took two ibuprofen to try and slow the pounding in his head before stepping into the shower. He got the water warm before turning on the spray and slowly increased to heat until he could barely stand it. He popped the shampoo bottle open and breathed in the rich cedary scent.

Draco washed his hair slowly and combed the conditioner through the delicate strands until they were all smooth and clean. He let the water run over his head and down his face, washing off him and down into the drain until he forced himself to move.

He dried himself off with a charm and used the Geminio charm to duplicate the toothbrush sitting in a cup beside the sink. He looked through the medicine cabinet as he mindlessly brushed his teeth and found a shot glass on one shelf with a mix of stud earrings inside.

Draco let the toothbrush hang from his mouth as he dumped the earrings into his hand and pushed them around on his palm. There was a single stud that looked like a square black gemstone. He turned it under the vanity lights, seeing shafts of blue when the light caught it just right. Draco duplicated it twice, returned the other earrings to their glass in the cabinet, and pushed the blue gem earrings into his earlobes. He didn't remember when he got them pierced. It had been months since he'd worn any earrings, so he had to force them through the half-closed holes, leaving his earlobes red and aching.

Draco finished brushing his teeth, vanished the brush, cleaned the sink, put everything back as it was and cast drying charms around the room so it looked just like when he had walked in. He eased the door open and, finding the bed's occupant was still sound asleep, walked over to the dresser, wrapping wordless silencing charms around himself and everything he touched.

He picked out some clothes from the dresser, duplicating them and leaving the originals behind. Copies of things only lasted a few weeks before the magic dispelled, but he rarely wore anything that long. Draco put on the new outfit, tight, dark washed jeans and a white t-shirt made of a light, silky material that felt good against his skin. He tucked his wallet into his pocket and vanished his old outfit.

Draco looked across the room at the figure still sleeping soundly in the bed. He could see sandy light brown hair spread across the pillow and the sharp line of a nose, neither of which he recognised. He thought he might remember the man's smile and the ghost of his touch.

He slipped out of the bedroom and eased the door shut behind him, soundlessly moving around the small apartment. He touched the covers of fashion and hairstyle magazines, let his hand slide over an old knitted blanket thrown over the back of a second-hand couch. An unread stack of junk mail slid off the coffee table onto the floor, addressed to Elliot Hugh.