One thing was things being tense between them, another thing was letting it get to his head. Harry hadn't seen Draco since he had snapped that morning a few days back, and therefore, Harry hadn't have to deal with it just yet; which, to be honest, had suited him perfectly up until this morning's training.<br/>While the conflict had lingered in the back of Harry's head, it wasn't until this morning, when he had heard Draco's name being mentioned during training that everything seemed to resurface. With a sudden stomach ache, Harry turned to engage in the conversation he had just been involved in.<br/>Some yards behind him, by the sideline, Chad had asked him how things had been at the flat and if it would be weird if he got Harry to ask for Draco's number for him. Upon understanding the context, Harry's mouth dried up and he clenched his teeth.<br/>For a moment, it looked like Chad regretted having asked, his eyes quickly filling with worry and he opened his mouth to speak. However, the words Harry had expected to hear never left his lips. Instead, he yelled Harry's name, and by the time Harry had turned, the ball had already smashed against his face.<br/>The injury had put an abrupt end to the training, and a half hour eheaier than usual Harry unlocked the door to the apartment. Though the cuts were only focused on the bridge of his nose and right cheekbone, where his helmet had given after under the ball and had scratched up his skin, his whole face felt soar and raw. His shirt was spotted with drops of blood and water asthe icepack he had gotten had long melted; starting to regain feeling is his numbed face, Harry turned to the kitchen in sought for a bag of frozen peas he knew he had in the freezer.<br/>Harry had seen Draco the moment he entered and his stomach had turned as a result of the sight, but he refused to acknowledge the other's presence, to exhausted to tackle any form of confrontation right now. Draco had gotten to his head and Harry refused to accept that.