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love galore

drarry microfic:

if the deepest pains and sufferings could talk, that was what they would sound like then. harry’s fight with draco was like an unchoreographed performance, destined to tear apart what was supposed to be healed.

for the past hour, they had been throwing insults and words that cut beyond just from reaching the ear, and either could tell that the both of them were sick and tired of one another, much so, of the fiery argument as well.

draco had said whatever he was thinking, and even though it was to cause harry pain, and as much as harry hated it, he knew wasn’t any different.

“you’re so fucking insufferable, potter! i just wanted a days break from work alone. you just had to ruin everything and be a clingy bitch.” draco reviled distinctively. he could feel the harsh rising and falling of his heated chest, all the anger bubbling up from the pit of his stomach and landing right on the tip of his tongue.

and harry knew. draco never called him “potter” unless something was incredibly foul. no, he stopped that years ago at hogwarts. now they’ve been dating for a couple of years, sharing an apartment and living a life together. how easily could the man throw his former emotions away in a heat of an argument?

harry could feel his tongue shiver slightly in his mouth. his throat was going dry by the second, his palms turning pale from the amount of pressure he used when pushing his fingernails in–a nasty habit he lost himself into every time his mind turned cloudy.

but harry had his reasons to his sorrow. he opened his eyes to let the tears that pricked roll down, and for the first time in the ages of silence, he looked up at draco.

“because i wanted to propose, you fucking moron!”

and in that one frozen after harry had let those words escape his mouth, he could tell the room went silent. the air was thick, and to draco it was as though the words harry let out remained stuck, replaying over and over again like a broken record.

“w-what?”

“i was going to take care of you, give you a nice ass candlelit bath, bring you to our bedroom filled with fucking rose petals, and propose. well, thanks a lot now, MALFOY.”

as harry let his words out, he could just see the agony flash past draco’s diminutive eyes, and suddenly all the fondness and love harry had forgotten was the only thing he could see in him.

“oh, harry..” he breathed, falling with his knees to the floor as he let his hands tangle through the blonde hair that lay on his head. silent tears drove down his cheeks, as draco bit his lip trying to stay quiet. but the rapid beating of his heart and the shaking of his arms said otherwise.

to draco, he felt as if he failed. as a boyfriend, a partner, a potential fiancé too. he could feel the waves of guilt coursing through his veins, clouding his mind as he wished he could cut off that tongue of his that spoke too soon.

“draco..?”

but draco didn’t spare a glance at the man standing above him, because how could he after all he had done?

yet, harry was resilient. dropping down to his knees too, he sat right across the blonde who had his head buried into the depths of his pale palms. harry reached forward as he gingerly pried his palms open, then using the tip of his finger to place under draco’s chin, to get him to look into the eyes of his lover.

“l-listen you-you don’t have to do any-ything. i-i’ll just go-o and le-eave this place. you do-on’t deserve someone who’s q-quick to speak. i-im so so sorry ha-rry i just-”

but instead of a tight slap draco had prepared himself to receive at the end of his little apology, he was cut off with a soft pair of lips that met his own.

this wasn’t like their usual kisses—passionate or lustful. there was no movement involved, just lip against lip, hand against nape but a heart that beat for each other. it reminded themselves of the 6 years of love they had built, with each day underlying a different surprise, a different story.

“draco, i understand where you’re coming from. i don’t hate you whatsoever, i just wished we had more time for each other. i want to make you my husband, love. i want to be there with and for you throughout. if you leave, who else will i turn to?”

and once again, draco crumbled to a pool of tears.

“i’ll marry you” he confirmed, giving in to the grin that danced on his lips. harry could only smile at the butterfly garden released in the pit of his stomach, before leaning forward and kissing his now fiancé harder, stronger, and more passionate than ever. the two men knew nothing could break them now, the layers of love unbeknownst to them unfolded within each second of the kiss, speaking for their emotions.

“cuddles?” harry mumbled against the red of draco’s lip. though they had done lots more than cuddling, the persian hue that never failed to coat his cheeks returned once more.

and draco didn’t have to be told twice. standing up, he threw a merry harry over his shoulders, because who was he to deny such a delicate request?