“No one believes that tired excuse,” he
said instead, licking his lips. Malfoy’s gaze darted down. “You had a chance to
try and rip out my lip ring, all you did was touch my lips. How long are we
going to do this?”
Malfoy was silent for a moment, and then his
fingers were brushing Harry’s lips again. It made the breath catch in Harry’s
“If you recall, I was curious to see how
far you’d take it,” Malfoy said softly, his fingertip bumping Harry’s lip ring.
“This ridiculous flirtation.”
It was becoming more and more obvious that
Malfoy was refusing to make any move more involved than touching his lips.
Harry inhaled slowly. Reaching out, hating how his hand shook, he cupped and
side of Malfoy’s face, and leaned closer, until their noses brushed.
“This ridiculous flirtation has had you
blushing for weeks,” he said.
“The things you’ve been doing are obscene.”
They were so close that Harry couldn’t
focus. His glasses felt like they were in the way, and he tugged them off, and
closed the gap again.
“Are you ever going to kiss me?” he asked,
brushing his thumb over Malfoy’s bottom lip.
There was a gentle, shaky inhale, and
then Malfoy pulled Harry’s hand away.
“Funny, I was wondering the same thing.”
Harry wanted to laugh. They were still
trapped. So close they were breathing the same air, and their noses kept
touching. Malfoy still had his hand within his grip. He was holding it tight.
“Are we so cliched that I, the Gryffindor,
have to be the one to—”
“Of course. Unless you’re scared.”
Harry shivered. “Why would I be scared of a
Malfoy closed his eyes, and then their
foreheads were touching.
“This has all been like a joke, but it
isn’t. Think about who we are,” he said, his hand gripping Harry’s tighter with
each word. “Think about the consequences of the line we’re about to cross.”
“It’s just a kiss,” Harry said shakily,
lying through his teeth. It was so much more than that now.
That feel when your own writing has you flailing and screeching.