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He sneaks up to the Astronomy tower at night, all by himself.
But when he doesn’t though, he stays up with his curtains shut in his four-poster bed.
He observes how Draco loves to look at the sky when he sits by the window those nights, and how he talks to himself in French. Theo doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he loves to listen to his voice, because he’s speaking slowly and softly. It puts Theo to sleep at times.
Sometimes, Draco draws little things in the corner of a parchment, and they’re kiddish things really, and Theo knows he’d find it stupid if anyone else did it, but when Draco does it, he finds it maddeningly cute.
He observes how he jumps at loud voices, how he doesn’t understand when someone speaks with sarcasm, even though he uses it quite often. How much ever he seems like he loves getting attention, he actually doesn’t. Theo knows he prefers to be alone like somewhere in the library, or by a tree near the lake.
Whenever he’s sitting next to Draco, he notices when Draco’s breathing gets quick, he reaches out for Theo’s sleeve, and sometimes he buries his face in his shoulder and takes deep breaths. Theo doesn’t question this, however. He thinks Draco has sensory issues. He doesn't mind it, he’s happy to know that he calms Draco.
Right now, he’s sitting nearby the lake with Draco. And he’s thinking about Draco (as always). He wants to talk to him, but he’s writing something down in his... journal, he decides. Draco’s using the quill Theo gave him which had a supply of inbuilt ink since he often used to spill the ink bottle.
Theo decides he’s beautiful, Draco’s beautiful.
Draco has a different way of holding his quill; with his thumb overlapping his index finger. He wants to know what it’s like to hold his hand, or play with his fingers. He wants to taste them, and every inch of his skin. He wants to know what his pale skin would feel like, wants to hear how Draco would sound like.
His not so innocent thoughts are cut off when Draco giggles, and shuts his book. He’s smiling, Theo doesn’t know why, but he can’t help being curious.
“Um,” Draco starts, “you, uh, you do know that I’m a legilimens, right?”
Oh. Shit. His face is heating up and he’s pretty sure he’s blushing mad right now. Okay, what’s he supposed to say now? Maybe he should just walk away? Maybe obliviate him? No, definitely don’t do that. He just stares at this grass silently.
“Sorry for uh, reading your mind like that, can’t help it at times. But maybe I should say that, I actually like you too. A lot.”
And now, Theo’s brain haywires. He’s so happy he doesn’t even know how to respond. And he thinks he might end up saying something stupid. Without thinking. He’s probably gonna do that. But he knows what he wants, though he doesn’t know how to frame it, so he just goes: “Can I kiss you?”
Draco’s actually surprised, “What?”
“I want to kiss you, may i kiss you?”
Well then, the next thing Draco did was lean in, and then Theo did too. They both honestly don’t know what to do, they first gave butterfly kisses to each other. Theo held Draco’s face with both his hands, Draco rested his hand at Theo’s nape and the other clutched on to Theo’s clothing. Draco then pressed his lips square on Theo’s and nipped on his lower lip, Theo then, well, practically shoved his tongue in Draco’s mouth. Draco didn’t mind at all.
They kissed for how long? They don’t know.