22/04/03 哈德/我热爱的狗血cliche/以为要分手其实要求婚
But he’d never expect Harry to burrow so deeply into Draco’s heart, to find a home there. It was the little things he was unsure if he’d ever live without. Those shitty muggle telly shows they watched (or rather, Harry watched and Draco curled sleepily into his side, and enjoyed his warmth), or brunch with his mother where Harry would gossip about all the new ministry drama he’d overheard and where Lucius would just grumble softly to himself, so used to Harry’s presence that he dared not say anything more, or holidays with the Weasley’s, where Harry’d lean so casually over Draco, hand protectively on his knee, as he gushed about his work with the wizarding law firm.
Draco looked up, to find his boyfriend, his gorgeous, stupid, boyfriend standing in the suit Draco’d had tailored for him. Green to bring out his eyes, and also to fuel the carnal feeling he’d always had at seeing Harry wear his colours. Over it, he had on one of Molly’s tattered old aprons, with a huge grease stain running along the middle, wrapped altogether by a concerned tilt to his expression?
