“Itwas.”Harryswalloweddowntheotherthingshewantedtosay,abouthowgdhewasthatDraowashere,abouthowbeautifulDraowas,abouthowhewouldtakethemhomerightthisminuteandjustkeeping,turningaroundinthelivingroom.“Savedmylifetonight.”
“Notasimportantasyou.”Draowaslookingupathimfrombehhiseyeshes,andHarryhadnevernotiedhowlongtheywerebefore.Therewerealotofthingshehadnevernotied,andallofthemaresuddenlyinformationhean’tbelievethathehadmissedforsolong.“Theyallloveyou.”
“Notme.Theylovetheboywholived.”Harrydidn’twanttothinkaboutthat.Tonightwasagoodnight.“Theydon’tevenknowwhoIam.”
“Ido.”Draoseemsonthevergeofsomething.“Iknowyou.And—”Hefalters,andHarryanfeelhisfingersflutter,justatinyshakeagainsthisshirt,likethebeatingofabutterfly.“You’reimportanttome.Youknowthat,right?”
Harrythinksthisanapology.Awaytosaysorry.AwayforDraotosaythatheloveshimwithoutatuallysayingit,butHarrydoesn’tare.Heanwait.Inthemeantime,hewouldtakethis.
“Yeah,Drao.Iknow.”Hepressesakissdowntothetopofhishead,andthenstepsaway,beausethesongisendingandiftheystaytogetherforanother,itwoulddrawmorestaresthantheywerealreadygetting.It’salmostwithanafterthoughtthatHarrybendsdownandkisseshimontheheek,solosetotheornerofhismouththatitisalmostonhislips,likethisisjustanotherthingwherehewouldpresstheboundariesuntilitbreaks,ruinthis,too,withhisreklessness.Harrydoesn’twantthat,buthewantsmore,andit’salmostworththerisk.
Chapter25
Drao
He’shappy.
Foramoment,Draoan’trememberwhy,onlythathehadgottenthebestnight’ssleepthathehadhadinagesandtherewasnopanilurkinginthebakofthroat,onlythesunstreaminginthroughtheopenurtainsandsendingyellowlightsatteringoverhisskin.Herubsthesleepoutofhiseyeslikehe’ssmoothingwrinklesinanoldshirt,andit’sonlywhenhestrethesoutanarmtowhereHarrywouldnormallybe(Draoisalwaysthefirstoneawake)andtouhesnothingbutthefrayingedgesofthewornoutsheetsthatheremembers—abouttheball,Harry’shandinhisastheamerasfshed,thelookonHarry’sfaeashereahedouttoaepttheawardthathethinksheonlygotbeausehewaslukyenoughtosurvive,thatewithHarry’shandsonhimandhisvoiewhisperinginDrao’sear,promisingthingsthatheknewbetterthantobelieveweregoingtoometrue.
There’saknotfinhisstomahattheemptyspaethatwassupposedtoholdHarry,butheswallowsitdown,foreshimselftoalmtheaythatisbeatingintimewithhispulse.Hewokeupearly,hethinks,pushingawaytheov
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