His Shirt
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,500
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,500
Reviews:
2
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.
His Shirt
Title: His Shirt
Author: lildove42
Rating: G
Pairing: H/D
Summary: He finds a shirt in the closet.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys or the shirt…
He turned to close the closet door when a glimpse of white caught his eye. It was a shirt. In the uppermost corner of his least used closet space. Left, disregarded, nothing more than a token, a memento of what had once been.
He pulled it down and gathered it in his hands. Inhaling deeply, he luxuriated in the scent. It smelled vaguely of clean, soap, and Him. And that heady scent brought an avalanche of memories that he had long buried.
Memories of happier times. Times when this apartment had been cramped with the possessions of the two of them. Times when they had gone out, acting like school children in love for the first time. Times when they fought over who would do the laundry this week or the shopping. Times when he hadn’t been alone.
He found himself laughing and crying at the same moment and clutched the shirt closer to him and wondered where his Other was now. Had He found someone else? Was He happier without him? Did He remember all the “I love yous” that had been whispered urgently between the two of them?
Drawing in the scent of the shirt one last time, he refolded it neatly, just as He would have done, and placed it back in the recesses of the closet. He had the door halfway closed before he reached in again and his hand automatically slid towards His shirt.
Author: lildove42
Rating: G
Pairing: H/D
Summary: He finds a shirt in the closet.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the boys or the shirt…
He turned to close the closet door when a glimpse of white caught his eye. It was a shirt. In the uppermost corner of his least used closet space. Left, disregarded, nothing more than a token, a memento of what had once been.
He pulled it down and gathered it in his hands. Inhaling deeply, he luxuriated in the scent. It smelled vaguely of clean, soap, and Him. And that heady scent brought an avalanche of memories that he had long buried.
Memories of happier times. Times when this apartment had been cramped with the possessions of the two of them. Times when they had gone out, acting like school children in love for the first time. Times when they fought over who would do the laundry this week or the shopping. Times when he hadn’t been alone.
He found himself laughing and crying at the same moment and clutched the shirt closer to him and wondered where his Other was now. Had He found someone else? Was He happier without him? Did He remember all the “I love yous” that had been whispered urgently between the two of them?
Drawing in the scent of the shirt one last time, he refolded it neatly, just as He would have done, and placed it back in the recesses of the closet. He had the door halfway closed before he reached in again and his hand automatically slid towards His shirt.