What you Get by Slicing your Wrists
Warning: This fic may contain sex and/or gore/violent scenes and strong language. This FF. contains suicidal attempts, self damage and slash (boy x boy) scenes. Dark HarryDraco fan fiction. If you don't feel comfortable or you don't like this kind of situations, please don't read this FF, I will not take the responsibility for your actions. Thanks.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter's characters and main plot does not belong to me, they are © of J.K Rowling and whoever she sells its ©. I only borrowed them in order to write this FF. The only thing that belongs to me in here is the FF. itself. Thank you.
Subgenre: Gore, Yaoi/Slash
I rolled up my shirt's sleeve up to my elbow leaving naked my inner arm's skin. White and full of scars, for me it looked just beautiful, they didn't follow a pattern nor they were messy at all, they were just…beautiful. Scars, they were truly attractive once you got used to them being in your skin 24/7; once you got one you searched for more, you wanted more of them. My fair skin seemed paler than usual, maybe because we were on winter and the sun was nowhere to be seen during the day, so it was commonsense that I had lost the tan that my skin got during summer. I shivered; the air in the bathrooms was bloody cold, almost freezing, it was to be expected that I felt uncomfortable with the cool air against my exposed skin. I shook my head, I was spacing out. I needed to return to my affair before the blade that I had in my other hand turned colder than it already was, though this weather was rather convenient, my body turned numb with the cold weather, that filtered from the walls of the old castle that Hogwarts was, and with that, the pain that the blade caused when it sliced my vulnerable skin was more tolerable.
Back to the business. I drew closer the blade, almost feeling its sharp edge in my skin. I hold my breath before I sliced the blade trough my sensitive skin. It contact was cool and painful (even with my numb skin); the touch was like ice against my nude warm flesh. I felt the blood flowing down from my wrist and into the sink, staining the white surface. It felt so good and I felt so free, it was like all my worries were flowing out from my body. I sliced again. Ah, it was the same orgasmic feeling. I did it again, again and again. I sliced my bare skin countless times. Maybe they were just 5, maybe more, it's not like I cared. It felt so bloody good.
I took the towel that I left near me in case I over sliced my wrists…again. I pressed the piece of fabric against my bleeding skin and stained the white surface with crimson red. As I was trying to stop the blood river that my wrists had created, the feeling of being free got lost with the time, I lost my freedom. I missed it, being free. I longed so much to feel that sensation again, my wrist was aching, keen to feel the pain of the knife on her and the warmth of the blood down my hand one more time.
"Just one more time, just one more time and that's all for the week" I thought. I took the blood-spattered blade, which was lying in the red sink, once again. My hand approached to my bleeding wrist and sliced once again. "Not so deep or you might pass out" I remembered myself, not wanting to pass out while bleeding in the bathroom, bad experience. I threw the blade back to the sink and took the towel, pressing strongly trying to stop the blood flow that was emerging from my body. It felt so fucking good. I wanted more and more. Every time I cut myself I got this feeling, the feeling of wanting to slice up my wrists until they end up screwed, until my hand falls down from my arm. But I was not that stupid, I had enough brain to know that I needed my hand and that I would be an arse if I got myself killed. I had my priorities.
1.- To live
2.- To screw the hell out of my wrists
The other priorities in my list are not worth to be mentioned, not right now. But…I wanted to slice my wrists more, just once more.
"One, only one". I wanted that sense of freedom running through my spine and I wanted that crimson colored liquid flowing out from my wrists. Trembling with fear and excitement I took the blade for the third (or was it the fourth? It's not like I'm counting) time. I aimed for a pale free space in my wrist. The tip of the ridge began to sink in my injured yet fragile skin when…
"In the name of Salazar Slytherin! What the bloody hell are you doing Potter!?" that startled me and caused me to drop the blade to the floor, great now it was dirty and that meant I won't be able to cut myself again (at least for today). But it's not the right time to be thinking about the date of my next 'self harm attempt', not when Draco Malfoy was the one who found out my secret hobby. The blond guy was standing at the entrance of the restroom, his trousers half opened. A shocked expression was now in his face, if you took a look at him you'll notice that his before pale (very pale I shall say) skin was now chalk white, the rose tone that his cheeks normally had was gone and he looked…well, as bad as you can look after you see someone who had just sliced his wrists like a maniac.
"Isn't it obvious what am I doing Malfoy?" I got up acting like if nothing had ever happened. Just cheap acting of course, the truth was that I was about to pass out from the horror from being found out, specially by Malfoy, my personal bully with six years of experience. "Take it easy Harry, just act normal…normal. Breathe, in, and out. In and out" I tried to calm myself. What can I say? I'm a nervous guy, I get nervous over anything and well, being found out a few seconds from slicing your wrists (again) by your archenemy was something that would scare the shit out of anyone, me included of course. "Can't you see I'm baking cakes?" Great, now the silver eyed Slytherin got over his shock and, oh! even greater, he was staring…glaring at me.
"Right…cakes" he said with eager painted in his normally husky and cool voice. Then he was approaching in this direction, with those long and (Merlin bless the Quidditch) strong legs that made him at least 10 inches taller than me. I was there standing like if this situation was normal, but that was because I was scared, since the incident in the train I understood that Draco Malfoy was not the wimp I thought he was (Well maybe he is a wimp…but he's scary when he's angry), I couldn't move. He took my wrist without any delicacy and I whined at his rough touch.
"Bloody hell Malfoy! That fucking hurts!" I shouted at him and tried to pull out my hand from his grip, bad idea since it tightened and now it was hurting much more than before "Damn…he's strong". So now, his legs weren't the only thing in his body that was strong, I'll take note of that. I tried to look him at the eyes but I couldn't, he was looking down at my hand, my screwed wrists to be more exact.
"Damn Potter, you are more fucked up than I thought" he said coolly and without any feeling in his voice. That upset me, it didn't feel good…if it was Ron the one who found me he would be shouting out loud and asking if I was alright, telling me that everything will be alright and freaked out, he would call Hermione and she will be scared but calmed, both would take me to the Hospital wing and after Madam Pomfrey had cured my wrists they would stick to me like glue to be sure I won't do that ever again, after make me promise that I wouldn't. But he…he said that I was more screwed up than he thought. That sure made me feel way better.
"Sorry for that" I finally managed to release my hand from his grip; I noticed that his hand was blood stained and I wondered if he didn't feel disgusted by it. I sat down again, not knowing what to do or what to say. He sitting next to me was something I didn't expect him to do. "What are you doing?" I asked evidently confused.
"You have glasses, can't you see I'm sitting?" he didn't even take a look at me; he was staring at the floor, with a troubled gaze. I looked down too, it was notorious that I didn't know what to say or how to explain what he saw earlier. "Why?"
"Do I have to be more specific?" he asked impatiently but still looking at the floor, I noticed his bloody hand messing up with his platinum hair, staining it with the crimson blood. I wondered if he didn't care. Or maybe he didn't notice it. He sighed exasperated "Why the bloody hell did you do that to your wrists?" he specified. I shivered.
"Oh…that" I didn't answered right away. "What am I supposed to answer him?" I thought to myself. True thing, I wasn't sure what to answer. There were lots of answers, all of them as true as the others. "I like it" I simply answered that. Why am I even telling him the truth? I should shove him off or something like that, tell him.
"Yeah Potter, you like it, I can see that" he said it like if it was the most obvious statement in this world "I asked why. This started with another reason. Am I right? I want to know why you started it"
"Does it matter?" I said without any emotion, but behind that dry answer my mind was filled with fear. I didn't want him to know…didn't I? Then why am I even here? Why am I still here? Why am I answering him? I sighed. I knew the answers but I didn't want to accept them, I was denying the truth. "Why do you want to know?"
"Because I…" he stopped there "Does it matter?" he replied. Touché.
"My life sucks…that's why" shortly after I answered Mafloy's question he started laughing like mad, that caused me to frown. My statement was no funny, but right, he hates me so he sure finds fun the fact that my like (unlike his) was a piece of shit. But it still made me angry. "What are you laughing at?" he suddenly stopped laughing and a serious expression possessed his face.
"Let me see if I understood… you are (by far) Dumbledore's favorite pet, you are as famous as Merlin, you have so many friends that you can't count them with your fingers, you have people who loves you everywhere, you are great in almost everything you do, you have money, rules does not apply to you, your friends would sacrifice their lives for you...And you say your life sucks?" he laughed again but this time it was more sarcastic, cynic. "You are such a laugh Potter, haven't you thought about being a comedian? You'd do a fair one"
That was it. He was saying that my life was actually good? Ha! Don't make me laugh, now he'll see that my life's a living hell compared to his! "Ohh yeah let me see where you got it wrong Malfoy" with my injured hand, I grabbed him by his shirt neck to make him look at me "Everyone makes every single decision in my life and I can't even say what the bloody hell I want, I'm that Dumbledore's freaking pet, my 'friends' like me because I'm the 'Boy-who-fucking-lived', I have the 'great' luck to be the only one who can defeat the most powerful wizard since the Founders, my parents were bloody murdered by a bald nose less freak, I have lived with my supposed family who hated me, abused me and starved me until I was nearly death during 16 infernal years " we were merely inches away from each other's face, our noses touching, I could feel his cold breath in my lips…it was sweet and cold, cold as the air. "But what would you know? You are Daddy's boy!"
"Let me tell you one thing Potter, you know nothing, nothing about my life so don't you dare to say I'm 'Daddy's boy'" his voice was cold and sharp like a knife, it was scary. I was scared. He took the hand that I was using to grab him with a strong grip, making me whine because of the pain. That had opened my cuts. A single tear sliced down from one eye. "Crying Potty? I thought you liked the pain"
"Fuck off Malfoy" I said with a pitiful voice, I was in pain, it hurt…this was not the pain I liked, this was another pain. I stared at him; my green eyes collided with his mercury ones. They were so beautiful yet so cold and without any emotion apart from anger and despair. "What's so bad about your life that you say is worse than mine?"
"Imagine you are alone in an enormous house, playing with no one except tour shadow, not even the fucking house elves care about you. You have your parents but they don't love you, they don't pay attention to you, they don't care about you. They try to buy your love with toys and presents. Then they just throw you into a magic school and when you think that you'll finally have someone who would care about you, surprise! They don't care about YOU, they only bloody care about WHOM the hell are you. Your last name is everything within purebloods. You had fake friends but when a better deal showed in front of them they just throw you like a paper they don't need any more." The anger in his voice was increasing with every word; his eyes were now like mirrors that reflected his soul and heart. I could read them, I could read his heart. Despair, loneliness, exasperation, hate…"Then your father tells you that you have to be a Death bloody Eater; he does not care if you die, and he only cares about his name and his reputation. So, he sells your soul to the Dark Lord, who threatens you that if you don't kill an old toad who names himself as the Headmaster of Hogwarts he'll kill your family" he released his grip and I sighed with relief, but the pain was still there. Like a spine in my heart, sinking and sinking deeper with every word his pale pink lips murmured. It was his voice, his voice and his feelings were the spine. And it was sinking in my heart. And I liked the pain that the spine was making me feel. "So yeah Potter, my life is fucking perfect. I can't understand" he stood up, wanting to go away from the bathroom and leave me there, to die from my own misery. I didn't let him; I grabbed his hand just before he got through the door.
"D-don't leave" I said, tripping with my own words. I felt that if he left I would never be able to see him again, that the spine in my heart would stay there forever.
"What do you want Potter? Want me to be here and help you to bandage your wrists? Keep dreaming" his voice sounded emotionless and his eyes were dry, dry from every emotion, even the hate and despair that once I saw in them were gone. I didn't like those eyes.
"Stay…" I said doubting. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Since when did I want Draco Malfoy by my side? "Since you found out that he was the same as you. As rotten as a corpse" I heard a voice, my voice in my head. I looked down to the wrist I was grabbing…it had scars. Old scars. "We are the same" this time it was me the one talking in my head. "We are the same" I repeated my thoughts.
"No Potter…" I released him from my grip and closed my eyes, the spine "I found out that…that freedom we feel whenever we cut our skin, is as fake as our smile" his face was near, I could feel it. As well as the desire that burned my throat, I wanted him so badly right now. "I wonder when you will realize that…Harry" Then, he was gone and I opened my eyes.
"I want him." That was the first though that crossed my mind as I opened my eyes and searched for him. When did I start to like him like this? "You've always liked him" Was it because he was as screwed and rotten as me? "You liked him way before that" The same voice answered all my inner questions. I knew it was me.
"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione's worried yet sweet and calmed voice took me out from my distraction. "Lately you look tired and it's like you are always thinking about something…like there's a problem and you can't find the right answer to it" she put her book to her right so she could talk to me without distracting herself.
"It's nothing Mione; I'm fine it's just that…" I stopped there, when the platinum blond hair I fancied so much entered the potions classroom, I followed him with my eyes, hoping to be unnoticed by him and by everyone.
"Harry!" her voice made me return to the reality again. I looked at her confusing "it's just that…?"
"That I can't stop thinking about the finals exams" her gaze doubting if what I said was true or not, she always managed to discover when I was lying, but she kept silent about my obvious lie.
"If you say so Harry, but you seem rather distracted all the time. Ron told me that you barely sleep and you always arrive to the dormitory very late. Please if you have any problem, just tell me" the worry in her voice didn't disappear and I it was annoying me. "Come on Harry, I know you and I know when you are hiding something from me. Everyone is so worried about you!"
"It's nothing" I said, she was annoying, even if her worry was not a lie. I didn't their help, her help. The help I wanted had platinum hair and mercury eyes.
"Harry, please…sometimes things get better when you tell someone your problems" she tried to comfort me by putting her hand in my shoulder. I didn't like that touch, it was too warm, too soft…"I want to know what's bothering you"
"I don't want to tell you" I said a quite harshly as I shoved her hand off my shoulder, but I hoped that with that she'll stop bothering me about the matter. Sadly she kept bringing up the subject and I was not quite, but very annoyed.
"Harry you should…" I hushed her before she could even continue saying what she wanted to say.
"It's none of your business Hermione!" I stood up and shouted in the middle of the lesson. Her honey colored eyes became blurry with tears and she slapped me strong and clean.
"Mr. Potter! Mrs. Granger!" I heard Snape yelling at us, great, now we've earned a…"Detention! Both of you! Today at eight! And 50 points from Gryffindor" Hermione started sobbing by the time Snape got quiet and she ran out of the classroom crying. My cheek was red and pounding.
"I don't like this pain either" I thought before sitting in my place again. Why don't I feel guilty? She was trying to help me and I treated her badly "Cause you don't care about her" The voice was once again here. I didn't pay attention to the rest of the class.
"What's gotten into you mate? Why did you yell at Mione like that?" Ron asked me angry and confused while we were exiting the classroom. I didn't pay attention to him; I was not in a good mood. "Harry! Geez, what's going on with you? First you coming late to the dormitory, then you seem paler than the day before, then you are spacing out all day, then you yell at Hermione and now? You ignore me!"
"And that's what I'll continue doing if you keep following me!" I didn't say out loud my thoughts; I didn't want to make a scene. I just wanted to go to lunch without any 'unfortunate' event.
"And you are still ignoring me! Harry!" he grabbed me by my shoulders and made me turn around. I got angry and overreacted…again.
"Fuck off Ron! Can't you see I want to be ALONE!?" I yelled and shoved his hands off my body. "This touch is too friendly, too familiar. I don't like it either" that was the only thought in my head. "This is not the touch I want"
"What!?" I remembered suddenly that I was arguing with my best friend. This face was almost as red as his hair, he sure was angry.
"Alone! It means I don't want anyone to be with me!" I explained. I knew being treated like an idiot would make him angrier than before, but that's what I wanted. I wanted to be alone and the only way to make the other two of the Golden Trio to leave me alone was to upset them. I watched as he slowly started to take out his wand. He was pointing at me.
"Now I'll make you shut up…Stupe-" Something or rather, someone hugged him from his left. Bushy brown hair, it was Hermione. Her eyes were red. She had been crying all this time, even now there were tears in her face.
"No Ron! We'll lose more points and you'll get a detention!" She screamed, scared and with sadness in her normally calm voice.
"But Mione, he was so rude with you and-" Hermione hushed him, not letting him to finish his statement.
"Please Ron…he's not worth of it" She said now more calmed. Ron lowered his wand, agreeing with her. "Let's go Ron" and both of them left. I noticed now that we actually made a scene. Half the corridor population was looking at me with shocked expressions. I glared at them and they returned to whatever they were doing before Ron started the argument.
"I should've been gentler to them. They were just worried" But the sharp feeling of pain and guilt never crossed my mind. Nor I was upset like I should be, I mean; I just had a huge argument with my two best friends. Why didn't I feel upset? "You don't care about them. You never felt like they were your true friends" the voice was right. They never pointed out my defects, they never contradicted me. But they were jealous whenever I achieved something. They were after my fame. "See? You are alone Harry…" I was alone.
And here I was once again. In the bathroom with a razorblade in my hands and my shirt's sleeve rolled up to my elbow. Just like the last time, there was a towel next to me, the air was freezing, and my skin was numb but pale and my scars as beautiful as ever. I cut slowly, enjoying the pain and the feeling of the sharp edge cutting through my flesh. So painful, so cold…it felt good. Yet, this time I didn't feel the freedom I was used to feel whenever I cut myself. I could see the blood flowing out from the wound, I could see it staining the white sink, and I could see it sliding through the pipe. Why? Why didn't I feel as good as the other times?
"I found out that…that the freedom we feel whenever we cut our skin, is as fake as our smile"
Draco's voice was sounding everywhere in my head.
"I wonder when you will realize that…Harry"
It was all an illusion, something I wanted to see…or feel. The freedom I felt before was just the freedom I wanted to feel, and cutting my wrists was the only way I could find to feel it. I started with this stupid obsession, a rotten obsession and I couldn't end it because it was the only way I felt free. Free from the world. I noticed then, that I was like the blood flowing in my veins; I was imprisoned and couldn't flow free because there was a barrier in my path.
"A barrier I didn't notice. I didn't knew it existed" Like the blood didn't notice the skin being its shield, its barrier. I didn't notice the barrier I put unconsciously, a barrier that no one could cross because I didn't let them to cross it. And no one dared to even try and cross it. I wasn't aware of it. It was my cage, an invisible cage. I accepted everything that was imposed onto me, I accepted the friendships that were offered to me but, I never cared enough to break the promises or to disappoint my friends. Though I knew that something was making me miserable and I couldn't stand it. I was stressed all the time. I felt a big weight in my shoulders. And I thought I found a solution, I wanted to believe it was a solution, so as long as I believed it worked, it would work. But not anymore, not since… "He made me realize that it was just something in my mind. It did not help" Then if I was the blood caged in the veins. Draco was the sharp blade that cut through the skin and flesh to set me free. He was the one who walked through the barrier like if there was not any barrier at all. And the moment he made me realize the truth…the freedom was gone. The feeling of being free disappeared. Now there was just the pain left.
"And I don't like this pain either. Not anymore" So which is the kind of pain I wanted? I already felt it once. "You like the pain that the spine causes" The spine…Draco's harsh words and feelings; I liked them but, it was more like I liked Draco noticing me, his harsh words and deep feelings were the proof that he was talking to me, noticing me. "You like the pain the spine causes, you like that Draco causes you pain…because it's Draco noticing you, focusing his attention on you. And you like him thinking only about you. You like arguing with him because he pays attention to you." So in other words I liked the pain that Draco caused me. I liked Draco. That's why every time that he insulted me I replied instead of ignoring him. That's why every time that he said harsh thing to Ron and Hermione I answered. I wanted his attention on me and only me.
And he was just like me. He felt alone, unloved, a lonely kid hoping for someone who cares for him, for someone to notice his cry and lend him a hand; to ask if he's alright. He understood how I felt, to be without someone who would like us the way we are. They liked us because our names, they liked me because I was The-Boy-Who-Lived, they liked him because he was the son of a Death Eater and a rich pureblood wizard. They did not like Harry, they did not like Draco. But I saw the real Draco and I liked what I saw. Arrogant, lonesome, pompous, egocentric, full of hate Draco. I liked his harsh words towards me. I liked his platinum blond hair, his smirk when he drove me nuts, his mirror eyes that showed his emotions, his long and strong legs from exhausting Quidditch practices, his hard chest that went up and down when he was mad, his long thin hands that wrote that elegant handwriting and his fine yet dull face that wore a cold mask when he really was someone different from the one he showed others.
Something sliced down my cheek; I cleaned it with a single finger and put it against my lower lip. It was salty. A tear and it was followed by more and more. I was crying. Sobs didn't get long to come out. Loud and clear sobs were getting out from my throat. I tried to drown them with my inner arm but it was impossible, they were just coming out too loud. I couldn't handle it, not the sobs neither the tears. I gave up and just cried without caring if anyone heard and came into the bathroom.
"So Potter is crying, this sure is cute" That voice, I knew that voice. My heart had started to beat faster and faster, it was racing like a mad horse in a competition. It was a husky, rough and velvet like voice. His voice. I liked that voice. Draco was here. "Cutting your wrists again aren't you Harry?" He said my name for the second time in his life and my name never sounded better.
"Not anymore Malfoy" I took the towel and cleaned my new and last cut. He raised one of his perfect eyebrows wish questioning eyes. "I just realized" It was the only thing I needed to say, I knew he would understand. He smirked. He understood.
"Well done Potty" he approached to where I was and his smirk grew wider "And it took you…" He took my arm without any caution or kindness. It hurt. It was painful. It was the pain I liked, the pain he caused. I almost moaned. "It only took you 37 suicide attempts to realize it. Congratulations" he said sarcastic.
"It's more like it took me a Malfoy to realize it" I got closer to him, invading his private space. Like I cared, in fact, I gave a damn about his personal space; I wanted to feel him closer to me. I needed to feel him closer. He didn't get away or try to. He was still in his place, not even blinking. Now my lips were brushing his ear and my voice was grating because of the recent crying. "I shall thank you"
"Yeah, I think I need a reward from saving you from yourself" unexpectedly he wrapped his arms around my waist and got me closer to him. I looked up at him; he was way taller than me. "I think I know what I want" his lips were brushing mine. It was intoxicating me, tempting me; it felt so bloody good. It was better than the pain. "And you'll give it to me. Willingly or not"
"I'm not complaining"
(A/N: Here's a Lemon which means explicit sex, if you want to read go ahead but if not please skip it)
Just as I finished and without any anticipation he kissed my lips roughly and without any concern. I wrapped my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers in his silk hair. It was smooth, his kiss was violent, it contrasted yet it felt so good while done together. His tongue entered forcefully into my mouth and I moaned, that made him smirk but he didn't stop. His tongue was dominating mine, it was exploring everywhere in my mouth. It brushed my teeth and my inner cheek then it worked against my tongue again. We got a bit separated to get some air, but he pulled me back into another kiss a few seconds later, this time he bit my lower lip. I moaned again and he smirked again. I don't know when but he took my glasses and threw them away since I was seeing everything slightly unclear. I didn't care.
One hand mover from my waist to my groin and got under my shirt; his touch was cold and soft pressed against my warm skin. His hand was touching my chest and front madly, first my stomach and then my nipples. Then I felt Draco's mouth leaving my mouth and my body complained with a groan but my discomfort was fast attended with his lips against my neck. This was good too. His teeth were biting my skin viciously and fiercely, it hurt, but this also hurt greatly. Now he was sucking, I knew he was leaving hickeys into my skin and that they were a lot but, I couldn't care less. I liked it. I liked the love bites that he was leaving in my fair skin, they were a proof that I belonged to him.
Without any experience in the matter and guided by instinct one hand started to unbutton his shirt; I was doubting if I was doing it well and it could be noticed by the way I was trying to do so, I was trembling and nervous. He helped me with my job, unbuttoning his shirt by himself with the hand he had on my waist.
Now with his shirt unbuttoned I could see (with my blurry vision) his fair chest. It was white as the porcelain but it was filled with scars, across his chest and in his stomach. I leaned and kissed one that was near his right nipple. He moaned quietly and I smiled and did the same with the other scars that were visible. He took his shirt and helped me with mine, then he embraced me again and pulled me into another wet and wild French kiss; this time our skin brushing against each other's skin. I moaned several times into his mouth and I felt his smirk against my own lips, he groaned less than me. One hand of his traveled all the way from my chest to my leg and touched it audaciously, with no shame. His other hand was now opening my trousers. I knew where and how this was going to end.
My pants were left forgotten at the moment he took them out and threw them into the sink I used to cut myself and now he was opening his own trousers. I helped him with his task this time. Now both of us were almost naked, only our boxers were covering our (evident) erections. Even with the fabric covering them, as they brushed together I moaned loud and clear, Draco still touching my legs. Suddenly he turned me around so he was now pressing his chest to my bare back, his erection brushing my bump as he leaned forward to continue his task of biting my neck, this time the other side. I was excited, full with passion, lust and desire; I could sense Draco was emanating them too. This felt good.
He pushed me and I fell in four legs. Now he was on top of me, still touching my legs; I didn't feel when he took his and my boxers out but, I sure felt when his member entered me roughly. I cried in pain, it was bloody painful, horribly painful. Tears started flowing down my cheeks but moans kept getting out from my throat. He started moving as fast as he was all the way into me. He was being rough, but I liked it. I felt so good. I liked this pain too. I don't know at which point I started moving to. And now the two of us were moaning out loud. This was unbelievable; we were having sex in the middle of the bathroom, not caring if a student or worse, a teacher, heard us. This was crazy, I hoped Moaning Myrtle decided to stay in her bathroom or else she would have a heart attack (well it's not like she actually can have a heart attack) if not she'll be traumatized for the rest of her existence. I almost laughed, almost; I was too busy moaning my partner's name so loud that I bet my moans could be listened at Gryffindor's common room.
"Ahh…ahh…Harry" I felt Draco's breathe next to my ear "I'm…almost" I knew what he meant, it was not difficult to guess what he was referring about.
"Ah..m-me too…" and I shivered, the sensation of the orgasm near, I could feel it. We both came almost at the same time. Draco (who was on top of me) got out of me and lied in the floor, I lied next to him and used his chest as pillow. He was breathing as heavily as me and it took us a few minutes to calm our respiration. He kissed my head and hugged my waist. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the moment. "Draco…I…" I tried to say but my breathing was still irregular.
"I know me too" I smiled in victory and then laughed out loud, not caring about the questioning expression he had. It's been ages since I heard my true laugh for the last time and all thanks to this bastard whom name was Draco.
"What the bloody hell was all this?" I said still laughing, I felt happy. For Merlin's sake I felt so happy right now.
He took my wrist and kissed it tenderly but it hurt since the wounds were done not so long ago. But I liked this pain and I liked Draco. "This is what you get by slicing your wrists".
A/N: Wow I can't believe I managed to finish it! This is unbelievable XD its 2.31 am, my back and hands are hurting but I finished it! I feel soooo good. And it's my first time writing a fic in English. So what do you think? I suck? I'm okay? I'm a genius? I appreciate reviews xD I'm a review zombie :B! Tell me what you think so I get to know if it's ok for me to write in English again or to keep writing in Spanish.
Sorry for the stupid warning! Some friends read it and they all complained about the lemon scene and they kept saying "Ewww you should warn us! That was creepy!" and I know…I warned them at the very beginning! But no one actually reads the authors notes right? Well sorry XD I wrote it in order for innocent minds to avoid being stained by the pervertness (is it even a word?) and beautifulness of the explicit sex. Oh well…I hope you liked it :D!
"Humans have the incredible capacity to reason logically and came into the wrong conclusion"