"I am," Harry answered in an exhale. The airiness and easiness of his voice were feigned and intentional; he was afraid his voice would crack if not.<br/>His eyes lingered on his own reflection, running his damp hands across the newly shaven skin, attempting to feel if he had missed any stubble. His face felt burning hot to the touch, the heat visibly creeping up his neck, and yet Harry couldn't leave it at that. "She's a friend of his; he's the one who set it up."<br/>Even just alluding to the fact that Dante and he were discussing inviting a third person over an evening felt like too much. While Harry didn't consider Draco to be a prude, he was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he might be, especially when having to talk about it. Needing the distraction, Harry lent forward over the sink to splash water into his face, removing the remnants of the shaving cream.<br/>When he finally straightened his posture, he intentionally avoided the mirror and instead turned for a towel to press against his face. "So, yeah - drinks."