***
There's a lot to be said about the boy sitting across from me. His eyes are stormy gray, and really they resemble rainclouds on a drizzly day. I'm not really sure if there is something nice to compare the colour of his eyes to. Usually, his mood tends to match that grayness. And his hair is so blonde that it's nearly white; from afar it appears that if you touched it, it would be cold and hard, sharp and brittle. His mouth is scarlet, similar to the colour of dark red roses. They look almost out of place set against the pale, white skin that makes up his face. The same skin that would suit someone who had been dead for some time, pale and cold as death. Many would probably fear to touch that skin, as the prospect of that white skin being ice-cold seems rather evident. Cold as death. His cheekbones are sharp and chiseled, very much complementing the chiseled attitude and smirk that are so commonly associated with Draco. Such an odd name, really. I see the people smile indulgently when Draco introduces himself. They want to laugh at the name. His name.
His hands are small and delicate, nothing like mine. He is very careful about where he puts his hands and how he uses them. Never wanting to dirty them in any way. Maybe that's why I would much rather go outside and have snowball fight, or maybe have a snog in the rain. Those mean dirt or filth, or possible drenching. Draco never wants to get wet. His hair would get mussed. He would be cold, and Draco hates being cold. How ironic, that such a cold boy can't stand to actually feel the element of coldness. No, he would much rather spend his time indoors, like right now.
We're studying for Potions, alone in the library at this time of night on a Saturday. He always wants to study, really. Everything about him is so different from me, to be frank. When we shower together he wants the water hot, hot enough to scald and I can't stand it. It amazes me that his pale skin can undergo the harsh heat. I need the water to be just a little bit hot, not too much. And when we kiss he always has to close his lips around my top lip, never any different. And if we sleep together he always lies behind me, arms around me. It's never the opposite way around.
Yes, we really are different in every way.
And I love him.
***
I can feel his eyes on me, while I try to concentrate on the my Potions textbook. That's how it always is, really. He never wants to spend time studying. He usually watches me as I read. His emerald eyes, studying me from behind those ridiculous round glasses. Honestly, hasn't he ever heard of contact lenses? And his hair is a complete mess, as always. I would think he could comb it but knowing him he probably hasn't bothered. His mouth is always upturned just a little more than necessary, always on the verge of a smile. He always seems to have some secret he won't share.
And sometimes I can't believe his hands, with a little bit of dirt under his fingernails. I really think it would do for him to keep them clean and somewhat manicured.
That scar is overrated, too. It is so well known to everyone, a common feature a scar really is yet when it comes to Harry, so much more than just common. And his name, I really don't envy him that. It's not the most special of names, and it definitely has no character. Harry is such a plain, boring name to tell the truth.
He always wants to be outside, playing Quidditch or whatnot. I supposed it's the reason for the dirt under his nails. Once he tried to get me to stay outside after it had begun to rain, said something about it being romantic. I just didn't want to get my hair wet.
I swear, if he fails his courses its's not my fault. The boy never will never concentrate on studying long enough.
And when we sleep together, he always wants me to stay with him. I wouldn't mind if I had to go back to my dorm, really. Sometimes when we shower together he turns the hot water tap down and I really would rather the water be much hotter. And he always wants to hold hands when we're in the halls together, always wants me to stop by the Gryffindor table each morning and give him a 'good morning' kiss. He'll never forget an anniversary, it's too important.
God, we're so damn different from each other.
And I love him.
***
I guess when it comes down to it, no one else will ever see Draco the way I do. When he turns his eyes on me, they really capture me in a way I can't explain. Gray and mysterious, stormy yet I can tell that after the storm there will be sun. Maybe I do like the colour of his eyes. When he's with me his mood is no longer sombre, but rather he seems happy and lighthearted. And he is always radiating warmth.
And his hair is like sunshine on a bright day, or stars on a clear night. I love to run my hands through it when he is kissing me, and oddly enough it's not brittle, or cold, it's soft and feels like silk through my fingers. It really is beautiful hair, to say the least. Too bad no one else will ever really get to feel it the way I do.
His mouth is just as lovely, and the colour of his lips gets darker when we kiss. Even though his face is pale, I can see the pink blush creep into it when he's holding me against him. I add such a nice colour to his face, just being with him. That pale skin isn't cold, either. It may look that way but when I run my fingers down his face it is warm, and the skin is soft and gentle to my fingers.
His delicate hands on my body make me feel pleasure like I have never known. I love feeling the touch of smoothness against my skin, it's almost like he's not even touching me at all. I suppose I would much rather his hands be the way they are rather than like mine. Mine are calloused and always a little dirty. I am outside way too much.
And really, I don't mind studying. Even though I don't like it much, I like it when it involves Draco sitting across from me. So what if he doesn't want to throw snowballs? In the end I'd be much better off learning my Potions that running around like a child in the freezing cold.
And you know what? I like having Draco's arms around me in bed, I wouldn't want it the other way around. It feels safe and cozy, like he really cares. It's really quite nice. I can even deal with the scalding showers if it means Draco is in there with me. And speaking of Draco, I guess the name isn't so bad. It does have personality. It's much better than Harry, Harry is such a boring name. I think there must be thousands of 'Harry's out there. But I bet only one Draco.
Come to think of it, I like his name a lot.
I know where hopelessly different. It's only natural.
But who cares? Being with someone who completes you means a world more than being with someone who is just like you.
And I love him.
***
I'll tell you the truth. Ridiculous as those glasses are, they are as much a part of Harry as his own name. And to be honest, I may have a name with character but Harry, he just adds character to his name. Maybe there aren't a million people named Draco out there, but there is certainly only one Harry as far as I can tell. He is one of a kind.
I know his hands are calloused but they still feel wonderful on my skin. They're exactly the right texture to drive me wild, and even thought there is that little bit of dirt lingerering, it's Harry's dirt. And somehow I expect that it's there for a reason.
I guess we spend more time studying than we need to, and maybe the next time it rains I'll drag Harry outside and snog him thoroughly. I don't care if I get wet, if my hair is plastered to my face, or if I get the flu from being in the cold. I'll be there with Harry, and that's all that really matters to me. Besides, what's the point of living if you don't run around outside in the freeazing cold like a child at least a few times in your adult life?
And whether or not Harry owns a comb really doesn't bother me. I like his hair messy, it suits him well. When I run my fingers through it it only get's messier anyway, really. And I would never want Harry to comb his hair simply for my sake. I care about him too much to try and change him.
And whether I like it or not, that scar is really kind of sexy. I like to trace it with my tongue, or run my finger over it to see how Harry will react. Scars are common but this one, this one is special. Too bad no one else will ever get to run their tongue down it like I do. It's mine.
I like being with him after we make love, I guess it would be rather rude if I just left, anyway. And when he wants to hold hands, I never say no. I like feeling his touch when everyone else is around, it's reassuring and makes me feel as though he wants the world to know we are together. If I were to avoid him in the Great Hall instead of kiss him 'good morning,' he wouldn't be the only one heartbroken. It's part of my day, seeing him, touching him. I'm used to it and I hate change, really.
Our anniversary is coming up. What shall I get him?
I guess our differences only make us more perfect for each other. An extension of me, where I leave off...
...he begins.
And I love him.
***
Yes, we really are two completely different people. Nothing alike. Although we do both prefer to sleep in the same bed rather than returning to our own dorms. And when we snog we don't always use our tongues, sometimes we prefer simple kisses. And whether the shower is hot, cold, or rainwater, we know that we're each with the one we love. And when we're done with Hogwarts, we're heading to the same flat. We both equally enjoy Quidditch to be honest, and I couldn't tell you who is more competitive. Sometimes, when we're alone, we like to laugh like children together and pretend that there is no war coming. And no matter what, we both expect the other to understand when we cry, or when we're upset or angry. And we both know we've found our soulmate.
So in the end, differences make no difference at all.
In the end, we're exactly the same.
And I love him.
There's a lot to be said about the boy sitting across from me. His eyes are stormy gray, and really they resemble rainclouds on a drizzly day. I'm not really sure if there is something nice to compare the colour of his eyes to. Usually, his mood tends to match that grayness. And his hair is so blonde that it's nearly white; from afar it appears that if you touched it, it would be cold and hard, sharp and brittle. His mouth is scarlet, similar to the colour of dark red roses. They look almost out of place set against the pale, white skin that makes up his face. The same skin that would suit someone who had been dead for some time, pale and cold as death. Many would probably fear to touch that skin, as the prospect of that white skin being ice-cold seems rather evident. Cold as death. His cheekbones are sharp and chiseled, very much complementing the chiseled attitude and smirk that are so commonly associated with Draco. Such an odd name, really. I see the people smile indulgently when Draco introduces himself. They want to laugh at the name. His name.
His hands are small and delicate, nothing like mine. He is very careful about where he puts his hands and how he uses them. Never wanting to dirty them in any way. Maybe that's why I would much rather go outside and have snowball fight, or maybe have a snog in the rain. Those mean dirt or filth, or possible drenching. Draco never wants to get wet. His hair would get mussed. He would be cold, and Draco hates being cold. How ironic, that such a cold boy can't stand to actually feel the element of coldness. No, he would much rather spend his time indoors, like right now.
We're studying for Potions, alone in the library at this time of night on a Saturday. He always wants to study, really. Everything about him is so different from me, to be frank. When we shower together he wants the water hot, hot enough to scald and I can't stand it. It amazes me that his pale skin can undergo the harsh heat. I need the water to be just a little bit hot, not too much. And when we kiss he always has to close his lips around my top lip, never any different. And if we sleep together he always lies behind me, arms around me. It's never the opposite way around.
Yes, we really are different in every way.
And I love him.
***
I can feel his eyes on me, while I try to concentrate on the my Potions textbook. That's how it always is, really. He never wants to spend time studying. He usually watches me as I read. His emerald eyes, studying me from behind those ridiculous round glasses. Honestly, hasn't he ever heard of contact lenses? And his hair is a complete mess, as always. I would think he could comb it but knowing him he probably hasn't bothered. His mouth is always upturned just a little more than necessary, always on the verge of a smile. He always seems to have some secret he won't share.
And sometimes I can't believe his hands, with a little bit of dirt under his fingernails. I really think it would do for him to keep them clean and somewhat manicured.
That scar is overrated, too. It is so well known to everyone, a common feature a scar really is yet when it comes to Harry, so much more than just common. And his name, I really don't envy him that. It's not the most special of names, and it definitely has no character. Harry is such a plain, boring name to tell the truth.
He always wants to be outside, playing Quidditch or whatnot. I supposed it's the reason for the dirt under his nails. Once he tried to get me to stay outside after it had begun to rain, said something about it being romantic. I just didn't want to get my hair wet.
I swear, if he fails his courses its's not my fault. The boy never will never concentrate on studying long enough.
And when we sleep together, he always wants me to stay with him. I wouldn't mind if I had to go back to my dorm, really. Sometimes when we shower together he turns the hot water tap down and I really would rather the water be much hotter. And he always wants to hold hands when we're in the halls together, always wants me to stop by the Gryffindor table each morning and give him a 'good morning' kiss. He'll never forget an anniversary, it's too important.
God, we're so damn different from each other.
And I love him.
***
I guess when it comes down to it, no one else will ever see Draco the way I do. When he turns his eyes on me, they really capture me in a way I can't explain. Gray and mysterious, stormy yet I can tell that after the storm there will be sun. Maybe I do like the colour of his eyes. When he's with me his mood is no longer sombre, but rather he seems happy and lighthearted. And he is always radiating warmth.
And his hair is like sunshine on a bright day, or stars on a clear night. I love to run my hands through it when he is kissing me, and oddly enough it's not brittle, or cold, it's soft and feels like silk through my fingers. It really is beautiful hair, to say the least. Too bad no one else will ever really get to feel it the way I do.
His mouth is just as lovely, and the colour of his lips gets darker when we kiss. Even though his face is pale, I can see the pink blush creep into it when he's holding me against him. I add such a nice colour to his face, just being with him. That pale skin isn't cold, either. It may look that way but when I run my fingers down his face it is warm, and the skin is soft and gentle to my fingers.
His delicate hands on my body make me feel pleasure like I have never known. I love feeling the touch of smoothness against my skin, it's almost like he's not even touching me at all. I suppose I would much rather his hands be the way they are rather than like mine. Mine are calloused and always a little dirty. I am outside way too much.
And really, I don't mind studying. Even though I don't like it much, I like it when it involves Draco sitting across from me. So what if he doesn't want to throw snowballs? In the end I'd be much better off learning my Potions that running around like a child in the freezing cold.
And you know what? I like having Draco's arms around me in bed, I wouldn't want it the other way around. It feels safe and cozy, like he really cares. It's really quite nice. I can even deal with the scalding showers if it means Draco is in there with me. And speaking of Draco, I guess the name isn't so bad. It does have personality. It's much better than Harry, Harry is such a boring name. I think there must be thousands of 'Harry's out there. But I bet only one Draco.
Come to think of it, I like his name a lot.
I know where hopelessly different. It's only natural.
But who cares? Being with someone who completes you means a world more than being with someone who is just like you.
And I love him.
***
I'll tell you the truth. Ridiculous as those glasses are, they are as much a part of Harry as his own name. And to be honest, I may have a name with character but Harry, he just adds character to his name. Maybe there aren't a million people named Draco out there, but there is certainly only one Harry as far as I can tell. He is one of a kind.
I know his hands are calloused but they still feel wonderful on my skin. They're exactly the right texture to drive me wild, and even thought there is that little bit of dirt lingerering, it's Harry's dirt. And somehow I expect that it's there for a reason.
I guess we spend more time studying than we need to, and maybe the next time it rains I'll drag Harry outside and snog him thoroughly. I don't care if I get wet, if my hair is plastered to my face, or if I get the flu from being in the cold. I'll be there with Harry, and that's all that really matters to me. Besides, what's the point of living if you don't run around outside in the freeazing cold like a child at least a few times in your adult life?
And whether or not Harry owns a comb really doesn't bother me. I like his hair messy, it suits him well. When I run my fingers through it it only get's messier anyway, really. And I would never want Harry to comb his hair simply for my sake. I care about him too much to try and change him.
And whether I like it or not, that scar is really kind of sexy. I like to trace it with my tongue, or run my finger over it to see how Harry will react. Scars are common but this one, this one is special. Too bad no one else will ever get to run their tongue down it like I do. It's mine.
I like being with him after we make love, I guess it would be rather rude if I just left, anyway. And when he wants to hold hands, I never say no. I like feeling his touch when everyone else is around, it's reassuring and makes me feel as though he wants the world to know we are together. If I were to avoid him in the Great Hall instead of kiss him 'good morning,' he wouldn't be the only one heartbroken. It's part of my day, seeing him, touching him. I'm used to it and I hate change, really.
Our anniversary is coming up. What shall I get him?
I guess our differences only make us more perfect for each other. An extension of me, where I leave off...
...he begins.
And I love him.
***
Yes, we really are two completely different people. Nothing alike. Although we do both prefer to sleep in the same bed rather than returning to our own dorms. And when we snog we don't always use our tongues, sometimes we prefer simple kisses. And whether the shower is hot, cold, or rainwater, we know that we're each with the one we love. And when we're done with Hogwarts, we're heading to the same flat. We both equally enjoy Quidditch to be honest, and I couldn't tell you who is more competitive. Sometimes, when we're alone, we like to laugh like children together and pretend that there is no war coming. And no matter what, we both expect the other to understand when we cry, or when we're upset or angry. And we both know we've found our soulmate.
So in the end, differences make no difference at all.
In the end, we're exactly the same.
And I love him.