They stared at each other in silence while Draco hoped Potter wasn’t able to hear his erratic heartbeat. He should have stayed away from Potter. He should have kept his mouth shut. He should have—
“You’re engaged,” Potter repeated. Only, this ti, it didn’t sound like a question. “I can’t believe this.”
Draco pressed his lips into a tight line.
“You’re fucking engaged!”
Draco startled. Why was Potter getting so mad? Yes, Draco had kept his engagent a secret, but there was no reason for him to—
“Why didn’t you tell ?”
Draco was surprised at how hurt Potter sounded.
“It’s not official, yet,” he said, trying to collect himself.
“Oh, of course!” Potter threw his hands in the air. “Were you seriously going to string along until I read about it in the paper?”
“You don’t read the paper,” Draco retorted.
“Draco!” Potter suddenly seed livid.
“What!” Draco snapped. Potter had no right to get mad at him. He wasn’t the one with the inexplicable, tedious crush! But…what was it he had just said? ‘String him along’? Surely, he wasn’t implying—
“What exactly was the point of this, then?” Potter asked, gesturing around. Draco wasn’t sure if he ant the dinner or…their friendship?
“You were the one who wanted to be friends,” Draco pointed out.
Potter raked his fingers through his hair, causing it to look as if he’d just been out flying. “Then you—You don’t—”
Don’t what? What was he trying to say?
“I guess I’ve been…reading the signs wrong.”
Signs? What signs? Was…was Potter saying—
“Let’s just, um, forget about this.”
Draco blinked. Did Potter an this conversation? This evening? Everything? Whatever he ant, Draco didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to curl up in his bed and die.
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