#we're using the modern definition of drabble i guess

[oknowkiss]

94 for the spotify wrapped drabbles💖

slow wake up sunday morning - mountain man (drarry; 359 words; rated T for language)

Harry thought, when he was young, that life would eventually slow down. He held onto this belief like a beacon, something to run towards. It had been easier at the time to pretend he was rushing to the finish line, sprinting to the moment he could finally relax, instead of what had actually been happening: that he was running for his life. 

There were a few months, here and there after the war, where Harry’s shoulders were given the space to fall from his ears. But what Harry didn’t account for — afraid and determined and all of seventeen — was adulthood. He didn’t account for the way it would come for him, just as it did everyone else lucky enough to be given the gift of time. 

There was so much to do, after the war. And when that stopped, there was his work. There was dating, the complete and utter catastrophe of it all. There was falling in love and falling out of it, hellos and goodbyes and “I love you” and “Fuck off.” There were bills to be paid and meals to prepare and holidays to take, birthdays and weddings and babies to meet with bright wet eyes. 

And then there was Draco. Somehow. Impossibly. There were dinners and drinks, at first. Careful nights spent over. Then he was there at the birthdays and the weddings, drunk at the Christmas parties, looking unsure near the babies. 

And now here’s Draco in bed, their bed. Harry takes in the shape of him, all his points going soft, getting wider, just like Harry’s. Harry looks at Draco now and can see the boy he hated, the terrified young man who saved his life for no reason. He can see the confused twentysomething he fell in love with, the thirty-five-year-old he married. He sees the future, too, their bodies continuing to settle and reform through the sheer miracle of existence. 

He watches dappled sunlight cross Draco’s sleeping face and thinks how lucky he is to have this morning, whole hours with nothing to do. He presses his nose against the curve of Draco’s shoulder and, in time, falls back to sleep. (give me a number 1 - 100 & i'll write you a drabble based on the corresponding song on my spotify wrapped)