When Draco inched closer, Harry’s hand slipped further down the line of Draco’s spine, fingers resting between his shoulder blades. It made Harry’s smile widen, a relieved confirmation that Draco had yet to regret it.<br/>Harry thought he had plenty of reasons to, surprised that Draco had even let him touch him in the first place.<br/>He still felt too comfortably satiated to feel the full tug of regret and remorse, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before that feeling became all-ingulfing.<br/>Harry had wanted to deliver on his promise and taking care of Draco had meant ignoring the scars Harry himself had put on him. Harry had kissed and touched Draco without consideration for the state of his skin, but in the palm of his hand, Harry still felt the phantom touch of raised scars.<br/>"Do you want to talk about them?" Harry said softly, so vague he counted on Draco’s understanding to what he was referring. Not having had sex, but the fact that Harry had almost killed Draco.<br/>Both their arms raised, it had significantly obscured the scars, but Harry knew they were there, forever.