Chapter Twenty-Two
The weeks following the gala were a blur of business meetings, high-profile events, and carefully crafted appearances. Harry's life had become a whirlwind of carefully orchestrated lies, and it was starting to take its toll. He found himself more exhausted than he cared to admit, not just physically, but emotionally as well. He had never expected pretending to be in love with Draco Malfoy could be so draining, but it was.
Draco, for his part, seemed to withdraw further with each passing day, his usual arrogance replaced with a cold, distant version of himself. Harry couldn't shake the feeling that the walls Draco had built around himself were growing taller, more impenetrable, and Harry was left to wonder if they were ever going to break through.
It was a Thursday evening when Harry finally reached his breaking point. He was sitting in the library at Malfoy Manor, a pile of paperwork in front of him. He had been going over contracts for some new business venture Malfoy Enterprises was launching, but his mind kept drifting. His eyes kept flicking to the window, to the overcast sky outside, to the garden that stretched out beyond the walls of the house. It felt like everything around him was suffocating.
Just as he was about to close the files and retreat to his room, Draco walked in, looking every bit the part of the cool, collected heir. His sharp, grey eyes flicked briefly over the paperwork before he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded.
"You've been hiding in here for hours," Draco said, his voice light but with an edge.
Harry didn't look up. "I've got work to do, Draco. Some of us have responsibilities."
Draco smirked. "Responsibilities, huh? I thought that was my department. I didn't realize you were so invested in corporate mergers."
Harry shot him a glance, but Draco was already turning away, clearly not interested in continuing the conversation. Harry clenched his jaw, feeling his patience slipping away. He had been trying to remain professional, trying to hold onto whatever semblance of normalcy they still had, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
"Stop acting like you're fine," Harry snapped, standing up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "You've been pushing me away for weeks, Draco. I don't get it. One minute, you're this... this distant, aloof bastard, and the next, you're playing the part of the perfect fiancé. What the hell is going on with you?"
Draco froze, his back to Harry. The words hung in the air, thick with the unspoken things neither of them had been willing to address. For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Finally, Draco spoke, his voice strained. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of it."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he could feel his frustration turning to something else—something deeper, something that felt dangerously close to empathy.
"I didn't either, Draco," Harry said, his voice softer now. "But here we are. And we've been trying to do this... whatever this is... for a long time. I'm not asking you to be perfect, but I need you to be real with me. Just once."
Draco turned around slowly, his eyes narrowed. "You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted to pretend to be in love with you?"
The words stung, even though Harry knew they were meant to. There was a sharpness in Draco's tone that was as biting as ever. But beneath the anger, Harry could see something else—vulnerability, maybe? It was fleeting, but it was there.
"I never asked you to pretend to be in love with me," Harry said, his tone steady but with a rawness that surprised even him. "But I can't keep doing this, Draco. I can't keep pretending we're fine when it's obvious we're not. We're not even close to fine. We're just... two people who are stuck in a situation neither of us knows how to handle."
There was silence between them, thick and heavy, and Harry could feel the weight of his words settling between them like a wall. He could see Draco's jaw twitch, the frustration building once again. Harry's chest tightened as he waited for the inevitable argument, the biting words that would shoot back at him in defense.
But they never came.
Instead, Draco let out a long breath, his posture stiff, his eyes distant. "I never wanted this to happen," Draco muttered, more to himself than to Harry.
Harry stepped closer, his voice softer now. "I know. But we've already crossed that line. And if we don't do something about it, we're both going to drown in this mess. Together."
For the first time in days, Draco actually looked at him—not with the usual detachment or coldness, but with something different. It was like a crack had appeared in the wall he had built around himself, and for just a moment, Harry thought he saw the real Draco beneath the façade.
"I didn't ask for any of this," Draco repeated, his voice tinged with regret. "But... I don't know how to fix it either."
The vulnerability in his voice left Harry momentarily speechless. Draco Malfoy, the boy who had tormented him for years, the man who had been his rival in nearly every sense, was standing before him with a raw honesty Harry had never expected.
Harry took a step forward, the urge to reach out, to comfort, almost overwhelming. He stopped himself just in time, realizing that this wasn't the time. The line between them was still too blurred, the boundaries still too fragile.
"We'll figure it out," Harry said, his voice a little hoarse. "But we can't keep pretending. Not anymore."
Draco nodded, his face unreadable. "Maybe you're right," he said quietly. "Maybe we can't."
And then, as if the moment had never happened, Draco turned and walked out of the room, leaving Harry standing in the silence, his heart pounding in his chest.
It was becoming clear that the lie they had been living was starting to unravel. The tension between them was no longer just the product of a fake engagement. It was real now.
And Harry had no idea where it would lead them.