(Drarry) Faking My Own Death

A/N: Filler chapter, not very good, next chapter gets much better.

"Boyfriends, are they just pretending?
They don't tеll you where it's heading
And you know thе game's never ending"

Harry felt like a huge hypocrite. He'd taken his decision on what to do about Draco weeks ago, yet still invited him over without telling him anything about it. He simply wasn't ready. It didn't feel okay to not be ready. Not because Draco made him feel bad about it, but because Draco was being so patient. He was doing so well and being so kind, and Harry was unnecessarily prolonging the whole ordeal. Poor guy.

To be honest, Harry didn't know what was taking him so long. He didn't understand what was holding him back. Each time he tried circling back to it in his mind, he kept pondering if he was sure about it after all. Could he even be sure?

All this to say that Harry was feeling terrified about his decision. He'd told Draco he loved him before, but this decision was more than a declaration of love. Building a house together didn't come close either, since it felt more like a natural next step. He'd barely thought about it. He'd rolled with the punches for a while now and with the break came the realisation he now would have to choose where to go next. Instead of hiding behind society's expectations, he would have to be sure that what followed was what he wanted, and that it was what would make him happy.

Actively wanting and choosing to be with Draco rather than being in a relationship out of circumstance felt wrong, somehow. It felt like it wasn't allowed. Like his friends had only been indulging him by accepting Draco because of the way the two had developed their relationship. It had been borne of fruitless passion, aimless care. It didn't come across as real love. It came across as temporary comfort.

Harry could deny no longer that this was anything but temporary or superficial. He started to wonder if it ever had been. It may have felt like it at first, but deep down the second the two of them kissed, Harry should have known better. This was what he wanted. Draco made him happy.

In films, he'd heard love described as tempting, or a dangerous drug, but Draco felt nothing like that. Draco was the furthest thing from numbing. If he was, their relationship would have been easy. He wouldn't have needed a break to focus on therapy, he would have simply broken up.

Instead, their love knew no easy answers. Yet, there was a truth staring Harry down since the dawn of this whole thing.

At the darkest, most perilous of times in Draco's life, he'd reached out to Harry for help, risking his life doing so. Draco had shown such vulnerability from the start, or at least from that confusing beginning in the Chamber of Secrets. Even though said vulnerability was wrapped up in traps and mistrust, biting-back and anger issues, it had been there all along.

Harry asked: "Why did you like me, back in Hogwarts? What made you go from hate to this?" Harry motioned between the two of them. He had invited Draco over for another afternoon tea, and they sat facing each other on the couch.

"I- It's complicated. You're drop-dead gorgeous, of course."

Normally, Harry would respond something like "naturally." And call it a day. He wasn't in a joking mood. He kept quiet.

This was about the fourth time Draco had come over just to hang and chat over some tea. Things were going well, albeit painfully casual. Harry kept noticing Draco's longing looks when he probably thought he was hiding them well.

Draco scraped his throat. "I suppose I've always admired the way you carry yourself, the things you do, the love you hold. I was jealous at first, but it was borne from admiration."

"How do you go from jealousy to wanting to kiss me?"

"I wanted comfort. I felt like I was going to die."