Chapter Forty
It had been a few days since the disastrous party at Malfoy Manor, and Harry couldn't shake the feeling of being stuck in a strange, twisted game. He had played along for so long, but now that the walls between him and Draco were crumbling, he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep pretending. The thin threads of their fake relationship were unraveling, and all Harry wanted to do was yank at them until everything fell apart. But what if that wasn't the answer? What if pulling away now only hurt more?
That was the thing with Draco—it was never easy. They would bicker, they would fight, but underneath all the animosity, there was something else. Something hotter. Something that made Harry's blood boil and his heart race every time Draco brushed against him or looked at him like that.
And Draco knew it.
"Potter," Draco said one evening, breaking the silence between them, "stop being so obvious."
Harry looked up from the book he hadn't read in the past hour, eyes narrowing. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"You're staring at me again," Draco said coolly, leaning back against the couch, arms crossed, his expression one of unbothered amusement. "Just admit it—you can't stop thinking about me."
The smugness in Draco's voice made Harry want to throw something, but there was something else, too. A pulse of heat low in his belly, a jolt of irritation that seemed to bleed into something more. Something far more dangerous.
"Fuck off, Malfoy," Harry muttered, turning his gaze back down to the pages. "I'm not your fucking toy."
But Draco didn't back down. In fact, he took a few steps forward, his presence leaning in on Harry like a wall of heat. The air between them thickened, and Harry could feel his pulse quicken. He hadn't expected this—he hadn't expected Draco to push back like this. He thought he was getting used to the tension between them, but the closer Draco got, the more his brain stopped working.
Draco's voice was low, almost a whisper, and it sent shivers through Harry's spine. "Tell me, Potter, are you really this much of a prick, or are you just trying to convince yourself that you don't want me?"
Harry's breath hitched in his throat, his entire body tensing. "You're delusional if you think I'm—"
But he didn't get to finish, because Draco's lips were suddenly on his. It was hard, almost brutal, a clash of teeth and tongues, and Harry couldn't quite comprehend how they got here—how they got to this point where he was kissing Draco Malfoy, the very same person he had spent years despising.
But now all the hatred seemed so... irrelevant. It was just the two of them, in a blur of heat and passion, and Harry couldn't help but lose himself in it.
His hands moved on their own, gripping Draco's shirt as he pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Draco's body pressed against his, hot and demanding, and Harry didn't care if it was wrong anymore. He didn't care that it went against everything he thought he was supposed to feel. All that mattered was the taste of Draco, the feel of his skin, the fire that burned between them.
They broke apart with a gasp, both of them breathless, their chests rising and falling in time with their pounding hearts. Harry's head was spinning, but he couldn't bring himself to regret a single thing.
"God," Draco muttered, looking just as undone as Harry felt. "You're fucking impossible."
Harry wiped his lips, staring at Draco as if the world had just shifted beneath him. "Yeah, well, you're not so easy either."
Draco gave him a half-smile, a smirk that seemed to carry the weight of every word unspoken between them. "Never said I was. But that's what makes it interesting, doesn't it?"
And just like that, the barrier between them had been torn down. The fake engagement, the pretense—none of it mattered. All that mattered was the raw tension, the need between them that neither of them could deny any longer.
But before either of them could say anything more, there was a sharp knock on the door.
"Potter! Malfoy!" came a voice from the other side. "You're needed for a meeting."
They both froze, the moment shattered as quickly as it had come. Harry's mind raced as he pulled away from Draco, the words of the person on the other side of the door coming into focus.
"I'll be right there!" Draco called, his voice a touch too casual. He turned back to Harry, his eyes dark with unsaid things. "We'll continue this later."
Harry just nodded, trying to get his breathing under control. "Yeah. Later."