The Proposal

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in a fog. The conversation with Draco replayed over and over in his mind, the words echoing like a curse. It felt like the world had shifted, but he wasn't sure if it was in the direction he wanted.

He barely registered the time passing, lost in his thoughts, as the sun sank lower and the office began to empty out. He had no idea where Draco had gone after their exchange—if he had gone home or if he was still wandering around, as lost as Harry was.

The weight of their confession—of what had been said, what had been left unsaid—settled heavily on Harry's chest. For all the things they had shared over the past several weeks, for all the pretend intimacy, the games, the bickering, the late-night talks, there had been nothing truly honest between them until that moment.

Harry felt like he had just thrown a stone into a calm pond, and now the ripples were spreading far beyond what he could control.

It wasn't until after dinner that he found himself standing in front of Draco's flat, the cold air biting at his skin as he hesitated before knocking on the door. The sound echoed, too loud in the silence of the hallway. He was making a mistake, wasn't he? This whole thing was a disaster.

The door swung open, and there stood Draco, looking almost too composed for someone who had just opened themselves up in ways that made him vulnerable. The same cold, detached expression was on his face, but his eyes... his eyes told a different story. They were raw, and despite the effort to keep the mask up, Harry could see through it.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco's voice was guarded, but Harry could hear the tremor in it, as though he was struggling to keep his composure.

"I need to talk," Harry said, barely able to keep the desperation out of his voice. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, what he could say to fix this.

"Talk about what? About how you just waltzed in here and decided to drop that bombshell on me and leave me to pick up the pieces?" Draco scoffed, though there was no real malice in the words—only hurt. "Well, I've heard all the grand speeches you can give, Potter. I think I've heard enough."

Harry winced at the edge of Draco's tone, at the anger veiling the pain. He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, determined to face this head-on. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly, looking at Draco with a sincerity he had never allowed himself to show before. "I've just... I've been too much of a coward to admit it. And I thought if I kept playing the role, everything would stay safe, you know? But I can't do that anymore. I don't know how to fix this, but I want to try. I don't want to walk away from this—us—without knowing if we can figure it out."

Draco stared at him for a moment, the silence hanging heavy. Harry held his breath, waiting for some sort of reaction. But Draco just stepped back, gesturing for him to enter.

"You're not going to leave, are you?" Draco asked, his voice almost too soft.

"No," Harry said firmly. "I'm not going anywhere."

The next several hours passed in a haze of argument and revelation. Words flew faster than Harry could keep up with, each one sharper than the last, but in that moment, every word seemed to tear down more of the walls that had separated them.

They fought. They fought about everything—their past, their mistakes, their differences. But in the middle of it all, Harry realized something he hadn't quite been willing to admit before: every harsh word, every bite of anger, every sharp remark had been a desperate attempt to push the other away. To keep them from getting too close.

As the night wore on and the tension in the air grew unbearable, something shifted. The fighting didn't stop, but it became different. There was no more pretense. They weren't pretending anymore, not to each other, and not to themselves.

It was Draco who broke first.

"I'm so fucking tired of this," Draco muttered, dragging his hand through his hair, his voice cracking at the edges. "I can't do this back-and-forth anymore, Harry. I can't keep pushing you away when I'm the one who's fucking terrified of it all."

Harry stopped in his tracks, his heart stopping in his chest. He had heard Draco angry, sarcastic, sharp, but never like this. Never so vulnerable. It was like he had just laid every fragile part of himself bare, and Harry didn't know what to do with it.

Draco turned to face him, eyes red-rimmed but fierce. "You're not the only one who's terrified, Potter. You think I wanted this? Wanted to feel something for you, for someone who's been nothing but a thorn in my side for years? You think I chose this?" His voice grew louder, more desperate with every word, but Harry could see the confusion, the pain, the longing underneath it all.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He stepped closer, not able to stop himself. "Draco—"

"No," Draco snapped, stepping back. "You're not listening. I'm not some fucking puzzle you can fix. I can't keep pretending I'm fine with everything. And I don't want to keep pretending like you don't make me feel something, too. It's infuriating. I hate it. But I don't know how to stop it."

Before Harry could speak, Draco's lips were on his, rough and urgent. It wasn't a kiss of reconciliation, not at first, but it was something that cracked through all the anger and confusion that had been building between them. Harry's heart raced, and his mind screamed that this was wrong, that they were both acting out of frustration. But he couldn't pull away. Not when he felt the fire in Draco's touch, the raw need in every movement.

When they finally pulled away, gasping for air, Draco's face was flushed, eyes dark with something Harry couldn't name. It wasn't anger anymore, nor was it simply rivalry—it was something deeper, more dangerous, more real.

"Don't fucking kiss me again if you're not ready for this," Draco breathed, his voice hoarse, but there was no anger, only the fragile edge of something new, something uncharted.

Harry swallowed hard, his throat tight, his mind reeling. "I'm ready, Draco. I think I always have been."

And for the first time in weeks, the world around them fell silent.