Chapter 9
**Malfoy Manor – Late Evening**
The manor was silent, the only sound the distant patter of rain against the windows. Harry had been unusually quiet all evening, though Draco had caught him staring a little more often than usual. There was something in Harry’s gaze—an intensity that made Draco’s heart race. He couldn’t decide if it was the storm outside or the storm brewing between them that made the air feel electric.
Draco stood in front of the mirror in his room, unbuttoning his silk shirt, ready to change into something more comfortable. The soft light from the sconces bathed him in a golden glow, accentuating the delicate angles of his face and the way his platinum hair fell softly against his neck.
Harry, leaning against the doorframe, watched him quietly. There was something mesmerizing about the way Draco moved—graceful, effortless. And yet, beneath that elegance, Harry saw the vulnerability, the unspoken longing that mirrored his own.
“Draco,” Harry finally said, his voice low and rough.
Draco turned, startled by the sudden break in the silence. His shirt hung open, revealing the pale skin of his chest. “Yes?” he asked, his voice soft, uncertain.
Harry stepped forward, closing the distance between them in a few strides. His green eyes were locked on Draco’s, filled with something Draco couldn’t quite name—desire, love, need—all rolled into one.
“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against Draco’s cheek. “You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Draco’s breath hitched, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to say something—anything—but the intensity in Harry’s gaze left him speechless.
Harry’s hand slid down, his fingers tracing the line of Draco’s jaw before resting lightly on his neck. “Every time I see you,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, “I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”
Draco swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “Harry…” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Harry’s other hand moved to Draco’s waist, pulling him closer. Their bodies were inches apart now, the heat between them palpable. “You don’t have to say anything,” Harry murmured, leaning in. “Just let me love you.”
Draco’s eyes fluttered shut as Harry’s lips brushed against his, soft at first, almost hesitant. But when Draco responded, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, Harry’s restraint crumbled. The kiss grew hungrier, more urgent, as Harry’s hands slid up Draco’s back, pulling him flush against him.
Draco let out a soft gasp, his arms wrapping around Harry’s neck. He melted into Harry’s touch, into the way Harry’s lips moved against his like they were made for each other. Every kiss, every touch, was a promise—a silent vow that Harry would never let him go.
Harry broke the kiss, his forehead resting against Draco’s as they both caught their breath. His hands moved to Draco’s waist, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against his skin. “You’re everything to me,” Harry said, his voice raw. “Do you know that? You’re all I want, Draco. All I’ll ever want.”
Draco opened his eyes, his gaze meeting Harry’s. There was so much love in those green eyes, so much devotion, that it took Draco’s breath away. “I’m yours,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the trembling in his chest. “Everything I am, everything I have—it's yours, Harry.”
Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile, his hands moving to cradle Draco’s face. “You mean it?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
Draco nodded, his expression unwavering. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”
Harry kissed him again, slower this time, pouring all his love into the kiss. Draco responded with equal passion, his hands tangling in Harry’s hair as he surrendered himself completely. There was no hesitation, no fear—just the overwhelming certainty that this was where he belonged, in Harry’s arms, loved and cherished in a way he had never known before.
As the rain continued to fall outside, the world around them faded away. In that moment, it was just the two of them, lost in each other, their love burning brighter than any storm.
And for the first time, Draco felt truly free—free to be himself, free to love and be loved, free to give his heart to the one person who had proven, time and time again, that he was worth it.