He spent the wine feeling like his world was just those galaxies reflected in those gray eyes and how they looked at him confused. Harry couldn't help it, and it's burning him inside like people burn an old newspaper.
He scanned Draco's face, memorizing his expressions and markings once more, as if he would never see his face again and needed to photograph it in his memory.
He traced the bridge of his nose until he reached his lips. Lips that looked like paradise. Lips that if he touched them, he was sure would burst into flames. Lips that would sink him deep into the snow and suffocate him, but he would still be alive, Harry would still be alive to taste them so much, Harry would kiss them as if they were giving him oxygen and not as if they were suffocating him.
Harry would kiss them, he would kiss them and he might die in that moment. He could die just by having Draco close to his hands.
To have it in your hands.
Harry would die for that. He would give everything of himself, even his soul for a kiss, for a simple kiss. A touch of lips, just that.
He looked back into those gray eyes, finding a deep desolation in them, a panicked chaos, and Harry would never regret falling in love with Draco.
—No...
—Draco, please...
—No no no no no. Harry... You're tired, you're not thinking.
And Harry knew he had to want that. Being tired and not thinking, this was nonsense based on that, but Harry knew it, he knew that he was more alive than ever.
And even though he would ruin his life with this, damn, how he wished he could ruin it with Draco.
Harry didn't respond, and he knew that there was pure desire in his gaze, because his heart responded to his impulses, beating as if he had run a marathon.
—You're engaged to Ginny. This is wrong, oh Merlin, this is very wrong. I have to go.
Harry stopped him before he could stop, taking him by the hand and pulling him closer. Draco looked horrified.
He sighed deeply, feeling his heart shatter, but his soul prayed for this.
I was begging.
Harry threw himself off the couch, falling to his knees at Draco's feet and holding on to them. His eyes were wet, he was on the verge of tears, and if Draco would be the first person in his entire life to see him cry, he was happy that he was. He was happy that Draco was the reason he was crying.
—Draco...
—Harry... Enough...
—I beg you,—he paused with his heart in his throat. —I beg you.
Harry took one of Draco's hands and stared at him, his life laid out before him.
—Draco... Look at me... Please...
When Draco looked at Harry, the terror in his eyes was suffocating. But Harry loved him.
—I am this, Draco. Nothing more than this. And I belong to you. I'm yours. I will burn, so much so that my face will be unrecognizable, but everything in me belongs to you. I'm waiting for you, for an answer. And I will understand, I will understand anything you can say about these feelings, but I'm covered with you. Can't. I don't want to. I want to end this, with all this commitment, with all this fire. You are a different heat from fire, you are the burning of frozen hands. And my hands, in my hands I can hold all this. I'm going to ruin myself, I know, but if it's not you with whom I will cross the dark corridors of death, I prefer to condemn myself to hell. I will hold your soul with my body. I will breathe for both of us. I will die again for you. And Merlin, you know that I... would give you everything. I would give you a son. I'd lose battles to be by your side when you yell at me if there's a reason I'm here, and Oh Draco Love, there are so many things you don't know. So much Draco, so much. For so long. And I'm not asking you, I'm begging you to please take me back. I don't care if you don't love me, if I don't seem like someone to be with. But I beg you, please don't forget me.