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"Hello, Harry." Draco's voice echoed in the cab. There was no reaction from Jimmie as he spoke.
"Alright then, we'll do this your way. Cabbies are supposed to be a bit like bartenders, right? They listen to people's stories when they're ready to pour them out into a sympathetic ear, right?" Again, Draco could see no reaction other than a concerted effort to not look back at Draco. Draco's voice turned caustic and biting. The sneer on his face intensified to a level he hadn't reached since before the war.
"Let me tell you a story, then, as I'm in need of a sympathetic ear. Five years ago, I was a happy idiot. I had a lover who professed to love me. I know I loved him. Hell, I proved it to him by turning my back on my heritage and my family for him. I turned my back on over a thousand years of Malfoy pride and history just so that I could be with him.
"He claimed to kill the Dark Lord for me. All was right in my world. I was deliriously and stupidly in love. One night, after a wonderfully romantic dinner, followed by the best shag I've ever had, I fell asleep with my head on my lover's chest and my hands and legs tangled with his. I figured as I drifted off that I couldn't be more happy than I was in that moment.
"I defied my parents and my familial history at that moment because I was sure that some god loved me and gave me you." Draco tossed a sardonic look towards the driver. "That is to say, some god gave me my lover. Malfoys weren't supposed to be in love, they were only to negotiate love moments.
"I went from the height of happiness into the depths of despair, all in a matter of hours. You see, Jimmie," Draco spat the name. "after I woke from my stupor, I found that my lover wasn't in bed. So, I rolled over onto my back and struck a pose. I yelled for him to bring me some coffee. There was no response but I knew that my lover loved to see my in my pose so I stayed that way. I held my arms just right and kept my legs in an almost uncomfortable sprawl. I yelled his name and still, the empty flat didn't answer. Are you following along so far?" Draco looked to the driver once more.
"What was I expecting, a reaction? Where was I? Ah yes, the morning." Draco drawled the last word out. "So I yelled once more for my lover and still no reaction. That's when I realized that the flat felt cold and empty. I turned my head towards my lover's side of the bed and looked at the dresser. There, sitting upon it was a little folded piece of paper with my name on it. My brain and heart cried out in denial. I could feel my despair welling up but I figured it's not what it looks like; he wouldn't do that to me. It's only a note to tell me he ran out for chocolates or danish or something, anything to not be what I knew in my heart it was. I knew, once I read it, that I would lose something I needed. I didn't want to acknowledge that the only thing I had in the world, the only person that I gave a damn about had flitted out of my life like a thrice-damned thief in the night.
"I wasn't a Slytherin for nothing, you know. In self-preservation, I ignored the note and went into the kitchen to fix myself that coffee. I couldn't drink it. Hell, I still can't drink coffee. You took that from me too.
"I turned on the telly and watched it for a bit. I rattled around the apartment, sure that if I just stayed put, you, that is to say, my lover, would be back with a grin and an explanation. I promised myself that I would hex him a couple of times before I forgave him and then we would snog like there was no tomorrow.
"I wandered around that flat like a love sick fool for over a week. My Malfoy pride lay in shambles around me. I refused to leave for anything. I called in sick to work. I didn't answer the Floo on the off chance you were going to Floo back. I scanned the skies for your owl. I just knew that he would come back. He loved me, of course you'd come back." Draco's eyes could no longer watch the lack of reaction from Harry. Instead, he looked out the side window as the brownstones and shops glided past. They seemed to be drifting past too slowly. Perhaps it was the pain in his heart but Draco thought the world seemed less bright, less sunny. The pain he'd finally suppressed for years clawed through his chest and demanded the opportunity to spring free and finally get its revenge. Draco wanted Harry to hurt worse than Draco hurt right now. Draco wanted to see the pain spill out of Harry like blood.
"When my lover's friends, the people he claimed as family, asked me where he went, I made up a story. My lover knew how much I adored Belgian chocolates so he'd gone to get me some. My lover knew how much I loved Turkish coffee but he'd be back. My lover knew how much I loved him so he'd be back.
"The chocolates never came and I haven't tasted coffee of any type in five long years. Do you realize what it did to me to receive sympathy from a Weasley? Do you? Of course you don't and why the bloody hell would I ask anyway? You aren't going to react but I'll be damned if you think you're going to get away with not hearing this!" Draco's fist lashed out to hit against the window. The crashing noise finally got a reaction from the driver as he jumped, obviously unprepared for the explosion of rage. Harry had yet to look back at Draco. Draco knew because he'd been watching, lying in wait, for his opportunity to make eye contact so Harry would know what he'd done.
"That fucking note stayed on the dresser for over a month. One day, I came into the bedroom to find Granger staring at it. When she looked at me, she had tears in her eyes and she cried for me. A fucking Mudblood cried for me. What little pride I had left disappeared.
"We just stood there staring at each other. Finally, she asked me if I was going to read your note. I shook my head. She put the note in my hands and said, 'I think it's time, don't you?". That question tore down my last sliver of hope. I started to back up and get away from it but her damn eyes kept staring at me.
"I unfolded the note and read your stupid fucking words. That bloody note ripped my heart out and crushed it. But you weren't there, were you? You weren't there to see it when you ripped me apart.
"Now I knew why a Malfoy should never feel love. When a Malfoy finally feels love, he gets a fucking note on a dresser begging him to continue loving the asshole, even when they least deserve it. I was so enraged at the note that I started destroying the stuff in the flat. The sheets on the bed were the first to go. Your clothes in the dresser were quick to follow. I blew up most of the kitchen. Your favorite chair died.
"And when my rage was spent, I cried. I found the pillow you slept on, hugged it to my chest and cried. I sobbed like a baby. I lay on the floor, in the middle of all the destroyed sheets and clothes and your ugly chair and sobbed. I held your dirty laundry under my nose like a fucking dog, trying to get the last of your scent! Aren't you going to acknowledge me? For fuck's sake, Harry, just say something! It's been five long fucking years! I'm pouring my bloody heart out and you can't even say a word. Christ, you're a bastard." Draco's rage filled voice changed into such utter despair that Draco was ashamed of it. Harry pulled the cab over; it was barely moving anyway, into the first parking lot he could find.
"I'm sorry." The words were softly spoken.
"That's it, after five years, I get one lousy sorry that you can't even say at a normal volume and to my face? Fuck you, Harry." Draco turned to stare out the window. The people outside continued to park and shop. One woman unloaded her food into the back of her Mini while another woman grabbed a trolley and started to push it towards the doors of the shop. They had no idea about the pain and rage inside the cab. Draco wanted to roll down the windows and shout at them to realize that life was pain and that love was a lie that died a million deaths until it was finally stabbed in the back of a cab.
"What do you want from me, Draco?" Again, the voice was small, barely audible.
"What do I want from you? Are you that fucking dense? Seriously? I want you to take off that glamour. I want you to turn and face me. I want you to explain why you left the way you did. I want the past five years of pain to go away. I want everything to go back the way it was."
"You want the glamour off? Fine." Harry flicked his wrist and Draco was finally looking into the eyes of the man he fell in love with so long ago. Somehow it didn't seem fair that they should also have pain and tears in them. Draco was the one left behind, not Harry. It wasn't fair.
"You want me to turn and face you? Fine." Harry flicked his hand and suddenly they were sitting across from each other with no barricades.
"I explained in my note why I was leaving. I can't make the past five years go away. I don't want everything to go back the way it was!" To Draco, Harry's eyes looked wild, like a trapped beast stuck behind a fence. They were both breathing heavily and shaking.
"Why, Harry, could you just please tell me why, straight to my face?" Draco's voice was begging.
"I...well...that is..." Draco's eyes started snapping.
"A Malfoy never begs and I'm not going to ask again. I can't do this." Draco started to get up and open the door.
"Wait." Draco's head turned towards Harry. A hand reached out towards Draco. "Please. I'll try to explain but you have to promise to listen, even if it takes a while." Draco nodded.
~~**~~
"I couldn't see anymore." Harry felt tightness in his chest. He'd never expected to have this conversation. If Harry had ever thought about seeing Draco again, he would have imagined coming back to their shared flat with a small box of chocolate from Honeyduke's in hand. Draco could always be won over to anything with bittersweet chocolate. When Draco opened the door, Harry would smile, Draco would cry and the two would embrace. A wordless apology and forgiveness would flow. Harry never imagined this wrenching conversation in a cab in a nameless parking lot in the middle of God-knows-where in London.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What couldn't you see?" There was the Draco Harry knew better. This Draco wasn't the shattered being that scared Harry. This was the angry Draco that Harry could always talk his way around with a joke and a hug. Somehow, clueless when it came to relationships as he was, Harry figured he wouldn't be able to joke and it would all be alright.
"I couldn't see me anymore. I was disappearing." Harry's voice kept the same quiet and small tone to it as he talked. In his shame, Harry couldn't meet Draco's eyes.
"What does that mean?" Draco didn't sound quite so angry. Instead, he sounded like he was a bit afraid of what he would hear.
"I...well...it's a bit hard to explain. Everyone seemed to take what they thought of me as fact. It didn't matter that I didn't like treacle tart; Ron thought I liked it so I liked it. It didn't matter that I didn't like the publicity. We were famous and the public wanted to know so my privacy didn't mean anything. I, that is, the real me, was starting to disappear."
"That's bullshit, Harry." Harry could feel the starting pricks of tears behind his eyelids. He was finally saying what he hadn't had the courage to say all those years ago and Draco didn't or refused to understand.
"Really? When you think about our apartment, how was it decorated? Where was I at in there? You wanted modern furniture and so we had modern furniture. I've always preferred homey furniture, chairs you could sink into and couches where everyone could pile on and watch a movie. You shot that down though, didn't you? You 'didn't want us leaving like poverty stricken Weasleys'.
"You wanted Picasso on the walls so we had Picasso on the walls. I wanted to have photographs of us and all our friends on the walls. You shot that down. 'What would that look like when we entertain?'
"You liked black so we had black. I wanted browns and greens. 'We don't live in the woods, Potter, we're in the city now.'" Harry chanced a glance in the mirror and saw a stricken look drift across Draco's face before it was hidden once more behind the Malfoy mask.
"So you're saying I was making you disappear so you had to leave in the middle of the night?" Harry shook his head sadly.
"That's not what I'm saying. I went along with what you wanted to make you happy. I went along with everything to make everyone else happy and by the time I was done, I was ceasing to exist. I didn't know who I was any more. I needed to find me and the only way I knew I'd have the strength to go was to disappear completely."
"God, Harry, I never knew you were so fucking selfish!"
"Selfish? I did everything for everyone else! I never did anything for myself! It was all to make everyone happy; Dumbledore, the Wizarding world, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, YOU!"
"Fuck you, Potter! I never asked you to give yourself up to make me happy! You made me happy! Just you." Draco screamed from the backseat. Harry was shocked to listen to what Draco was saying.
"Christ, I can't do this. I really can't." Draco's voice dropped to a whisper and, if it wasn't for the listening devices in the backseat, Harry wasn't sure if he would have heard him. "Were we that awful to be around, Harry? Were we so awful that you had to disappear?"
"You were never awful to me. I loved you, I still do. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. Do you know what I miss the most?" Harry, while keeping his head pointed towards the floorboards looked up towards Draco with a wistful smile on his face.
"What?" Draco kept the Malfoy mask in place so Harry had no idea how to interpret the gaze and the question.
"I miss how you would pop your toes in the morning." Draco gave a watery cough of laughter. "I'm serious. I knew that it was morning and you were still there, right there beside me when I could hear your toes pop. I love you. I've never stopped. I haven't been with anyone in the entire time that I've been gone." It was Harry's turn to use a quiet voice. He wasn't sure if he wanted Draco to hear him or not.
"Do you know what I miss the most?" Draco kept his gaze on Harry. Harry's head finally rose from looking at the floorboards and met Draco's gaze head-on.
"No, what?" Harry didn't know what he wanted Draco to answer but he knew that he wanted it to be something lovely and sentimental. He wanted Draco to stop hurting.
"I miss the way you kissed me."
"How I kissed you?"
"It was never just a kiss with us. You would say whatever you were feeling with a kiss. You devoured me when you were hungry for me. You savored me when you were feeling love. I could always tell what you were feeling when you kissed me. You brushed your lips against mine every morning when you brought me my coffee and you always kissed me hello and goodbye. I miss the emotions you gave me in the kiss." Harry finally realized how much he'd hurt Draco as he thought about their conversations.
"I'm so very sorry, Draco. Nothing I say will ever explain what I was thinking or why I left. I'm so sorry." Harry's head dropped once more, his chin almost on his chest as it gazed to the side a bit and down. Harry jumped when a hand lifted his chin.
"Then show me. Show me what you're feeling with your kiss." Draco leaned towards Harry and neither could help the surge of hope within those words.
Harry's lips barely touched Draco's before he moved towards the corner. Another soft kiss and he moved to the other corner. There, he nuzzled before drifting up Draco's face to lay another butterfly kiss on his nose. Harry's hands stayed at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching as Harry worshipped the person in front of him.
Finally, though, after dropping small kisses all over Draco's face, Harry's lips drifted back to Draco's. There, he sucked Draco's lower lip between his own. His tongue darted across it. Draco sighed into Harry's mouth and Harry took the opportunity to slide his tongue into his former lover's mouth.
It was a soft kiss and seemed to the participants to last a lifetime. Harry's kisses begged for forgiveness, testified to the love he felt, had always felt. Draco's response said, I may not have forgiven you yet, but keep asking, please, keep asking.
Eventually, when they were out of breath and Draco's knees ached from kneeling on the floor of the cab, the two broke apart and stared at each other. Their faces remained close enough that the world was blurry and all they could see were each other's eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Draco. I didn't know. I didn't know." As Harry whispered, he could feel Draco's lips still against his.
"I know, Harry." Draco's voice was soft but hopeful. At least, Harry hoped he could hear the hope.
"I'm not brilliant or perfect, Draco. I, just, I couldn't cope." Harry felt like he wasn't explaining enough.
"I know, Harry."
"I want to try, though. I know five years is a long time, but I know who I am now. I want to try." Harry was pleading now.
"I know, Harry." Harry really wished Draco would say something else.
"I love you, Draco. I've always loved you, even when we were shouting at each other, even when I was leaving."
"I know, Harry."
"Give me a clue, Draco. Just give me a clue." Harry pulled back and looked at Draco from where he sat kneeled in front of Harry. Draco gripped the back of Harry's neck and pulled them so that their foreheads touched.
"Harry, I know you didn't know. I know you couldn't cope. I know you're not brilliant. I know you want to try. I know you know who you are. I know you love me. I know. I can taste it in your kiss. Take me home. 15 Linden Street."