Draco's words sent a shudder through Harry, wholly unprepared to hear them. He felt drunk. The surge of adrenaline mixed with the persistent exhausting deep in his tissue in a way that made him feel disassociated from his own body, floating atop it.<br/>There was a million different things Draco could mean, but as Harry relaxed back against the pillows, bare shoulders against the sheets, only one was on Harry's mind. The flushed anticipation burned bright in his expression, transparently giving away that, among endless interpretations, Harry hoped he was right.<br/>"Draco," he choked, afraid to misconstrue this as something it wasn't, simply because he wanted Draco so much it hurt.