My model, my lover (Drarry) ✓

Chapter 13

"Draco?"

"Hey, Pansy." He says, his voice weak.

"Are you okay?" She asks. "I haven't seen you around for a while."

"I... I'm okay." Draco murmurs.

"Alright. I'll pass the phone to Harry now." There was a scuffle of noise before Harry's voice went through the speaker, not muffled this time.

"Hey. You wanna go out on a date soon?"

"I can't. My parents... they're mad at me." He says. "They locked me up here."

"You okay? You sound like you're going to faint?" Harry asks. "Did you take your medicine?"

"It's getting worse. My condition, I mean." He looks at the window outside, wishing he could go out. "My parents think I'm coming out with excuses to make them do my bidding."

"Parents, for all their good points, are still human."

"I know." Draco sighs. "What are you doing now?"

"Got off work. I'm with Pansy and the others. They said they couldn't contact you." Harry says. "And you?"

"Painting."

"Watercolours?" He hums as a sign of agreement. "What about?"

"A painting of us." Draco says, making a few strokes on the paper and completing a bright pink flower on the side. "We're hugging. I'm not ill anymore. We're at a beautiful field covered in flowers."

"Yeah? And what's happening? Are there any others?" Harry asks.

"Our friends are there too. W-we're... getting married." He blushes as he said it, getting a laugh from the other side. His laugh was the best thing he's ever heard.

"You want to get married in spring?" Draco joins in the laughter after a while. Then the tone gets all serious. "Okay, darling. I'm taking notes."

"Harry..." He giggles. "I love you."

"Okay. I love you too."

"Are you gonna hang up?"

"You want me to stay?" Harry asks.

"Of course. I miss your voice." Draco smiles. "I'm scared you would hang up."

"Lady Parkinson says we can talk for another 3 hours, or until her battery goes flat." There was a bunch of laughing at the table. "Blaise wants a kid beside him. He says he wants a kid by the time we're married."

"Tell him one more word and he's out of the picture." There was another round of laughing, both sides. Then the door slams open. Draco drops his phone, in a frenzy to pick it up.

"Who is that?" His Father demands, snatching it out of his hands. "Why are you laughing like that over the phone?"

"Draco? Draco are you okay?" Harry's frantic voice comes through the speaker. "Dra-" His Father jams his finger onto the 'end call' button, smashing it on the ground, the screen cracked beyond repair.

"It's that stupid boy again." He snaps. "What have I said about that?!"

"Father, no!" He puts his body in front of his painting, trying to protect it from his violent thrashing.

"I never agreed to all this rubbish, on this stuff you waste your time on!" He yells, kicking the easel until it broke and then moving on to his palette and brushes. "It seems that locking you in here for reflecting doesn't do you any good!"

"Stop it! Don't touch that!" Draco screams, crawling on the ground to grab one wing on the penguin. But he was weak and small, too weak to stop his Father from yanking it away and dumping it right into the colourful puddle of spilt paint and water.