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Scar
Three months ago, Harry was shot during a mission. Now, there’s a new scar on his face, a long and notched line which breaks that perfect skin. It starts at the hairline, goes down along the forehead, breaks the eyebrow line and crosses the green eye. That eye is not green, now, it seems as someone have stick dust on it. But the scar goes on, disfigures the cheek and ends on the neck.
Draco draws it with a finger, caresses it with soft movements and just sees it. Harry’s sleeping and Draco loves these moments, when Harry is calm and all the problems are far away. There’s no fear, no embarrassment for the scars which ruins Harry’s features. Even if Draco thinks it doesn’t ruin anything because it’s just Harry.
It isn’t the only scars on Harry’s body - famous one apart. Harry is a small battlefield: he has a thin white line along the left arm, a memory of an accident with the broomstick when he was twelve; another one is on the hip and it has a circular shape but Draco doesn’t know how or when Harry made it; another one runs through the back and Draco thinks it’s the worst because it is large, irregular and deep. Harry isn’t sheepish about these but only about the one on his face.
Draco can understand him: the face is what characterizes everyone and makes a person charming. And Harry, with this scar, can’t see him as sexy or desirable. He tries to explain to Harry it doesn’t matter, that he also has scars – and a faded Dark Mark – but he never heard him. When they touch this theme, they always have a quarrel which leaves them tired and nervous. And, instead of a step forward they turn back of three. It’s frustrating, but then there are this peacefully moments, where all is allowing and Draco can think they will make it, one day or another.
“Draco? What are you doing?” Harry demands with a sigh.
“Nothing,” he doesn’t remove his finger from Harry’s face.
“Draco-” Harry strays from him, brusquely. Draco takes his arm and sees him into his eyes. Both the eyes.
“Harry, just stop this story. You have a view of you that isn’t the mine. I already tell you this, but I need you understand.” He approaches him and gives him a softly kiss on the scar. Harry became stiff as a stone, but Draco feels he can’t stop himself now. It’s the moment. He kisses another time the notched line, from the beginning to the cheek before he dives on Harry’s lips.
He guides his partner to lie on the bed and pushes his rising erection against his leg. “Can you feel it?” he asks.
Harry nodded, but his eyes are close. “Damn, Harry, see me!” Draco screams.
Harry see him with a surprised expression.
“Ok. Now tell me: can you say I’m disgusted or scared or whatever your diseased brain thinks?”
Harry gazes him and he can’t find any clues about it. He only can see determination and fury fire in the grey of Draco’s eyes.
“No,” he replies.
“Good. So, please, cease to be a sissy and return the Harry I met at the Ministry and breaks my nose with a fist.” Draco smile and Harry promises to himself that he will try.
The end