A/N: This chapter is crappy and short, but I might revise it later.

Disclaimer: applies.

Chapter 2:

The piece was beautiful, really. Draco had been working on it night and day since the day about two weeks ago that he'd met Harry. It was a medium sized portrait of the raven-haired God, drawn totally from memory. Anyone else would be happy with the final result, but Draco was not. It just didn't feel like Harry. Sure, the proportions were right, the shading meticulously perfect in every way. But the piece failed to invoke any emotion in Draco whatsoever, save for the feeling of complete defeat at his own incompetence.

"I should just bloody quit art. I don't deserve to live anymore if I can't do this right," Draco grumbled to himself. He'd always been a bit on the Tortured Artist side, something his parents didn't approve of in the least.

He spared the piece one more glance, before grabbing a jacket and the key to his dorm room and leaving. Draco's mind was absorbed once again in thoughts of Harry as he made the rather short trek to a coffee shop nearby. He checked his watch- he'd told Blaise that he'd meet him at half past 12, and it was already 12:45. 'Fuck it,' Draco thought, 'I don't really give a damn.'

He swept into the coffee shop fifteen minutes later, spotting Blaise at a table in the corner. He plunked down into a chair next to his friend and crossed his arms.

"Nice to see you finally made it," Blaise said.

"Shut up. I was drawing." Draco didn't even know why Blaise and he were friends, but they'd known each other since grade school. As much as the two bickered though, Draco knew that Blaise would always be there for him.

"Oh… still working on the same piece?" Blaise asked as he took a sip of his cappuccino.

"Yeah. I just finished it. I don't like it," Draco replied sullenly. "It's like nothing I do is ever good enough."

Blaise snorted. "Maybe it's not good enough for your incredibly high standards. Your stuff is amazing to the rest of us normal people."

Blaise's comment wrung a snort of laughter from Draco. "If you say so."

"I do say so. What's the drawing of, anyway? I'm tired of hearing about this mysterious project of yours!" Blaise leaned forward in his seat.

"Do you remember that model we had about two weeks ago?"

"Ah. Still obsessed with lover boy?" The Italian man asked cheekily. He knew Draco was gay and it didn't bother him one bit.

"I'm not obsessed. I just didn't have anything else to draw," Draco denied.

"Well then you won't mind one bit that lover boy just walked in with some other guy."

Draco whipped around so fast that he'd probably gotten whiplash. What Blaise had said was- surprisingly- true; Harry had walked into the coffee shop accompanied by a handsome redhead. Today, Harry was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a long sleeved white shirt with a short sleeved black shirt on top of it. He wore a scuffed pair of checkered vans and carried the same red messenger bag. Beside Harry, though, was a tall (maybe even taller than Draco!), gangly redhead. His right arm was linked with Harry's left and the two were standing close, Harry laughing at something the redhead had said.

A sick feeling settled in Draco's stomach.

He turned around and glared in Blaise's direction. "Of course I don't mind," Draco gritted out.

Blaise smirked smugly and drained the rest of his drink. "Well Dray, as lovely as this has been, I have a date with a block of clay that I'd rather not miss," he joked. "I'll see you later." With that, the Italian stood and left Draco, the little bell on the door tinkling behind him.

Draco sat there a moment longer and then stood up to leave. As he was walking through the door and looking around the shop (No, he wasn't looking for Harry, thank-you-very-much!), he ran straight into someone. That someone- who was a great deal shorter than Draco- let out a small 'oof' and fell backwards onto the floor.

"Well Draco, that wasn't very nice!" Draco looked down and nearly jumped out of his skin- he'd just knocked down Harry!

Draco collected himself and offered a hand to the fallen angel. "May I buy you a coffee and offer my sincere apologies?" He offered smoothly.

Harry laughed and grasped his hand, lifting himself up from the floor. "Yes you may, kind sir."

Harry linked his arm with Draco's and lead the blonde over to a table near the window at the front of the shop, seating himself comfortably in a squashy chair.

"I've been thinking about that drawing you did, you know." Harry stated.

"Oh?" Draco tried to play it cool, but his heart seemed like it was beating a thousand miles a minute.

"Yeah. It was really beautiful, you know. I don't know how you managed to make it look like me and make it beautiful at the same time," the brunette laughed.

You are beautiful! Draco wanted to say that so badly, but his fear of overstepping his boundaries- they'd just met, after all- held him back. Instead, he changed the subject. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything. You came in with someone…"

Harry's eyebrows raised and he gave Draco a playful smile. "Well why didn't you come say 'hi,' silly? And no, you're not interrupting anything. Ron- the guy I was with- has to work right now. He just came to pick up a coffee."

"Oh. Well, I should probably get going. I've got class." It was true- Draco's painting class would start in about twenty minutes.

"Awww! Now I'll be all alone! Hey, do you want my number? We should hang out sometime!" Harry's perkiness- and randomness- warmed Draco's heart.

"Sure." The two exchanged numbers and Draco unwillingly went on his way.