Draco knew that it was silly, but he really didn’t have a better way to explain how he looked at Potter. Every day he spent together with Potter meant that he became less and less of the figure head for the war that Draco had once known him as, learning just how much Potter too resented the war and the fact that he had come to represent.<br/>However, a part of Draco desperately needed Potter to still be the golden boy, desperately needed some kind of plausible deniability for the fact that he had spent a decade hidden away from the public eye, just out of fear for what they’d say. It wasn’t a baseless fear and that made it even harder for Draco to be able to let it go, wanting some part of them to still belong at Hogwarts, as if they were still kids.<br/>This, of course, wasn’t something he knew how to articulate to Potter, or even if he should attempt to do so at all. Despite how the two of them had become closer in the time Potter had spent at the manor, Draco still kept himself guarded, not wanting to open up too much, in case Potter was going to end up using it against him later.<br/>“The golden man doesn’t really have the same ring to it,” he simply stated, leaning back against the arm cushion of the couch, looking at Potter and realising that his hand was very close to him.<br/>It made him think of just how cold it had been this morning in the kitchen and also made him wonder if it would be just as cold now. With alcohol in Potter’a system and being located in essentially the warmest room of the manor, it definitely<span style="font-style: italic">should</span>be warmer.<br/>The curiosity got the better of Draco, as he reached out to briefly brush the back of his hand against Potter’s, attempting to be subtle but probably failing.<br/>Potter was still unusually cold.