Alone
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,995
Reviews:
47
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,995
Reviews:
47
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Alone
*
Disclaimer: I solemly swear that I do not own Harry potter or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling. FOR THE WHOLE FIC
A/N: an inspiration in the middle of the night...
***
Never a hello, never a goodbye, never a kiss.
He\'s here and then he\'s gone and I\'m alone again. It\'s awfully lonely in a room built for two all by yourself. But the room is not built for two, not really. It\'s built for one, the defeated, me. The room of requirement pops into existance when he wants. It\'s not built for romance or love or even really sex. It\'s built for him. There is a lone bed, it does not have silk sheets or luxurious fluffy pillows. It is plain.
I sit there afterwards sometimes, long after he has gone. We don\'t use the bed normally. It\'s usually quick. I\'m in the room, my pants are around my feet and he\'s inside me. The pleasure is excrutiating. Never a kiss. Hot breath on the back of my neck is as close as it ever gets.
I see him with Blaise sometimes. He fucks him too, but he gets a hello. It makes me mad, but I can\'t do anything. If I told him I didn\'t want to do this anymore, he would shrug and wait. He knows me too well. It would only be a matter of days before I came crawling back, my resolve in pieces.
Never a hello. That\'s all I want, a whispered hello, a hushed goodbye, the whisper of a kiss. Sometimes I think I imagine our meetings. Although I also fantasize so much on what could be that I\'ve lost hold of reality. I imagine he\'ll come in one day and kiss me for the first time ever.
But it never happens. He comes and he fucks me until I can\'t sit down, but as soon as it\'s over, he\'s gone. I wait around, hoping he\'ll come back, but he never does.
It\'s awfully lonely in a room built for two all by myself. The bed waits in the lost hope that someone will use it. We don\'t usually. I\'m usually pushed against the wall as he pushes in from behind. It never lasts long, but it\'s enough to leave me wanting more.
He doesn\'t touch me aside from gripping my hips to keep his balance. I can feel his ragged breath on my neck as he cums inside me. He doesn\'t stay, his pants are up and he is gone. I sit on the bad and stare after him, willing his return.
Never a word is said. The owl comes every other day. It\'s not his owl, because that would be too suspicious. It\'s not my owl, because that would mean it was someone who knew me. It\'s always a different owl. Ron and Hermione always want to know what it is. I know, so I don\'t show them. I never open the letter at breakfast.
The note names a time, always the same place. He arrives. The room is identical to all the other times. I\'m fucked into the wall and then I\'m alone again. Sometimes I cry, wishing it was different. I can\'t control my emotions. I want him so much.
He doesn\'t know. If he did, I would never get him. I would lose the little I have. It started out with an innocent touch. The first time was amazing, but not a word was said and has continued so. He pushed me into an abandoned closet and had his way.
I couldn\'t help wanting it again. Ron and Hermione are concerned. They don\'t know what\'s going on and I\'m not telling. They want to know where I disappear to every other day. They want to know why I look like I haven\'t slept in days.
I tell them it\'s Voldemort and they nod their heads understandingly, but they don\'t understand. Ever since I killed him, I\'ve felt empty. When Draco is behind me, pounding into me with such a force, I feel complete. His body pressed against mine is a glorious feeling.
But it\'s soon over and the empty feeling resumes. A whispered hello. That\'s what I long for. A word exchanged, a touch meaning something more, anything more. A brush of the fingers, and whisper of his lips on mine. A hushed goodbye, my whispered \'I love you\' goes unnoticed because he has long since left.
I need him, but he doesn\'t need me. He\'s with Pansy sometimes too. I know she means nothing, but it\'s hard. She hangs on him like a leech. He humors her and kisses her.
Never a kiss.
The touch of his fingers on my hips, pulling me closer as he weaves in and out. The moans are not of love, but of sex.
A whispered hello.
Not a word, never a word. A look indicates everything. I turn around, the bed standing forgotten, and I feel cold stone.
A hushed goodbye.
He never stays, doesn\'t linger. It\'s always the same, the fucking, the moans, the emptiness.
It will never change. He doesn\'t need me. I don\'t think he even wants me. I don\'t know what to do. I long for his touch, something different. He never complies. I don\'t ask, it\'s an unsaid question. It lingers over us, never spoken, but always there.
During school he only speaks to insult. It doesn\'t mean anything. Ron gets worked up and I do nothing. I don\'t restrain him anymore. It\'s not worth it, as Hermione used the say. Hermione gives me odd looks all the time.
They don\'t understand and never will. If I told them, they would be shocked. I\'m tired of all the suprises and the angst. Draco doesn\'t care. He insults and I keep coming back.
A whispered hello.
The wind sounds like Draco sometimes. I imagine it tells me what I want. \'I love you, Harry\'. But the wind is lying. The wind has no feelings and doesn\'t understand mine.
So lonely. His presence fills me but disappears the moment it\'s over. Before I can get my bearings, the door is shut and I\'m alone, again. Hermione tells me I should see Madam Pomfrey. I agree but don\'t go. Hermione leaves me alone.
Ron is confused. Why am I avoiding everyone? Why don\'t I like quidditch anymore? The team needs me. The words filter through my head and are gone. They are worthless. They mean nothing, useless, irrepairable, broken.
He\'s back. Here we go again. He\'s staring at me. He doesn\'t do that. His silver eyes are boring into my soul. I try to cover my feelings quickly, lest they be revealed. His eyes are searching, looking for something that\'s not there.
A whispered hello, a hushed goodbye, the phantom kiss. That is what I want and will never have. He is still staring, it\'s becoming unnerving. Something is wrong, I can feel it. He opens his mouth.
\"Hello, Harry.\"
**************************
Read? Review!
Disclaimer: I solemly swear that I do not own Harry potter or any other characters used in this fic. They are all property of J.K. Rowling. FOR THE WHOLE FIC
A/N: an inspiration in the middle of the night...
***
Never a hello, never a goodbye, never a kiss.
He\'s here and then he\'s gone and I\'m alone again. It\'s awfully lonely in a room built for two all by yourself. But the room is not built for two, not really. It\'s built for one, the defeated, me. The room of requirement pops into existance when he wants. It\'s not built for romance or love or even really sex. It\'s built for him. There is a lone bed, it does not have silk sheets or luxurious fluffy pillows. It is plain.
I sit there afterwards sometimes, long after he has gone. We don\'t use the bed normally. It\'s usually quick. I\'m in the room, my pants are around my feet and he\'s inside me. The pleasure is excrutiating. Never a kiss. Hot breath on the back of my neck is as close as it ever gets.
I see him with Blaise sometimes. He fucks him too, but he gets a hello. It makes me mad, but I can\'t do anything. If I told him I didn\'t want to do this anymore, he would shrug and wait. He knows me too well. It would only be a matter of days before I came crawling back, my resolve in pieces.
Never a hello. That\'s all I want, a whispered hello, a hushed goodbye, the whisper of a kiss. Sometimes I think I imagine our meetings. Although I also fantasize so much on what could be that I\'ve lost hold of reality. I imagine he\'ll come in one day and kiss me for the first time ever.
But it never happens. He comes and he fucks me until I can\'t sit down, but as soon as it\'s over, he\'s gone. I wait around, hoping he\'ll come back, but he never does.
It\'s awfully lonely in a room built for two all by myself. The bed waits in the lost hope that someone will use it. We don\'t usually. I\'m usually pushed against the wall as he pushes in from behind. It never lasts long, but it\'s enough to leave me wanting more.
He doesn\'t touch me aside from gripping my hips to keep his balance. I can feel his ragged breath on my neck as he cums inside me. He doesn\'t stay, his pants are up and he is gone. I sit on the bad and stare after him, willing his return.
Never a word is said. The owl comes every other day. It\'s not his owl, because that would be too suspicious. It\'s not my owl, because that would mean it was someone who knew me. It\'s always a different owl. Ron and Hermione always want to know what it is. I know, so I don\'t show them. I never open the letter at breakfast.
The note names a time, always the same place. He arrives. The room is identical to all the other times. I\'m fucked into the wall and then I\'m alone again. Sometimes I cry, wishing it was different. I can\'t control my emotions. I want him so much.
He doesn\'t know. If he did, I would never get him. I would lose the little I have. It started out with an innocent touch. The first time was amazing, but not a word was said and has continued so. He pushed me into an abandoned closet and had his way.
I couldn\'t help wanting it again. Ron and Hermione are concerned. They don\'t know what\'s going on and I\'m not telling. They want to know where I disappear to every other day. They want to know why I look like I haven\'t slept in days.
I tell them it\'s Voldemort and they nod their heads understandingly, but they don\'t understand. Ever since I killed him, I\'ve felt empty. When Draco is behind me, pounding into me with such a force, I feel complete. His body pressed against mine is a glorious feeling.
But it\'s soon over and the empty feeling resumes. A whispered hello. That\'s what I long for. A word exchanged, a touch meaning something more, anything more. A brush of the fingers, and whisper of his lips on mine. A hushed goodbye, my whispered \'I love you\' goes unnoticed because he has long since left.
I need him, but he doesn\'t need me. He\'s with Pansy sometimes too. I know she means nothing, but it\'s hard. She hangs on him like a leech. He humors her and kisses her.
Never a kiss.
The touch of his fingers on my hips, pulling me closer as he weaves in and out. The moans are not of love, but of sex.
A whispered hello.
Not a word, never a word. A look indicates everything. I turn around, the bed standing forgotten, and I feel cold stone.
A hushed goodbye.
He never stays, doesn\'t linger. It\'s always the same, the fucking, the moans, the emptiness.
It will never change. He doesn\'t need me. I don\'t think he even wants me. I don\'t know what to do. I long for his touch, something different. He never complies. I don\'t ask, it\'s an unsaid question. It lingers over us, never spoken, but always there.
During school he only speaks to insult. It doesn\'t mean anything. Ron gets worked up and I do nothing. I don\'t restrain him anymore. It\'s not worth it, as Hermione used the say. Hermione gives me odd looks all the time.
They don\'t understand and never will. If I told them, they would be shocked. I\'m tired of all the suprises and the angst. Draco doesn\'t care. He insults and I keep coming back.
A whispered hello.
The wind sounds like Draco sometimes. I imagine it tells me what I want. \'I love you, Harry\'. But the wind is lying. The wind has no feelings and doesn\'t understand mine.
So lonely. His presence fills me but disappears the moment it\'s over. Before I can get my bearings, the door is shut and I\'m alone, again. Hermione tells me I should see Madam Pomfrey. I agree but don\'t go. Hermione leaves me alone.
Ron is confused. Why am I avoiding everyone? Why don\'t I like quidditch anymore? The team needs me. The words filter through my head and are gone. They are worthless. They mean nothing, useless, irrepairable, broken.
He\'s back. Here we go again. He\'s staring at me. He doesn\'t do that. His silver eyes are boring into my soul. I try to cover my feelings quickly, lest they be revealed. His eyes are searching, looking for something that\'s not there.
A whispered hello, a hushed goodbye, the phantom kiss. That is what I want and will never have. He is still staring, it\'s becoming unnerving. Something is wrong, I can feel it. He opens his mouth.
\"Hello, Harry.\"
**************************
Read? Review!