Pairing: Harry and Draco.
Style: First person, Harry's P.O.V.
Length: Six paragraphs, twelve sentences a piece.
Must include the line: Lying here and thinking about you, as these moments just pass by, makes me remember when you told me you would turn my tired moments, into moments of pleasure. And you did.
Disclaimer: You should know the drill. Not mine, hers.
Summary: I know—fear—you're never coming back. Please come back, Draco. Make me ashamed of thinking that—rub it in my face, just please, please come back. — HD Challenge!fic.

A/N: This was for my friend Rea's challenge. Feedback is appreciated, as always.

Please, Please Come Back.

We had to move our camp again last night; it was the sixth time in two weeks. I imagine you would have complained about it. You would have put on quite the show, too, sulking about the tents and pouting when you thought no one was looking. And then, when we were alone, you would have whined that you hadn't had a decent shower in a weeks and demand I do something about it. I would have offered you a massage and said something along the lines of, "Don't worry, you look perfect. You always do. Besides, it should all be over soon..." and you would have shut me up with a kiss. I think I know why you always did that; despite all of your complaining, I don't think you liked thinking that maybe, tomorrow could really be it—that tomorrow, I could be dead. Really, I don't even know why you complained. I wasn't lying when I said I thought you looked perfect. You always managed to look so put together, even here, out in the middle of who-knows-where, even with your hair messed and face flushed, smudged with dirt. You always managed to look so in control of what ever situation you were put into. I never told you this, but I envied that. Maybe if I could be a bit more calculating like you were—a bit more commanding—then maybe, we'd actually have a chance of winning this war... and maybe you wouldn't have left.

We lost Davis and Shelby this morning. No one knows where they went, but it really doesn't matter. It was obvious that they no longer believed in our cause and without that belief, they would have been useless in battle anyway. We haven't seen the enemy in nearly two weeks but people are still dropping like flies. I don't think they can handle the tension—the tension of not knowing where they are and when it's going to be over or when they're going to be able to return to their friends and family. It's becoming harder and harder for me to understand that lately because I haven't got any friends or family to return to. Still, I'm trying to keep my faith. It's hard though, especially now—they want to know why it's not over yet, why I haven't been able to defeat him. I think knowing the answer would scare them more than not knowing is. To be honest, I'm just tired. Tired and afraid—tired of being afraid. Why did you have to leave me?

I hope you know I can't get you out of my head. I think about you a lot—more than what's healthy, I'm sure. I think about how things were, how they could have been and, worse yet, how they are. I think about how you smelled—clean but strong, like clove—and I think about what you looked like, lying beside me on the ground, a bundle of silk pyjamas wrapped in wool. I think about everything we promised each other, how you said you would never leave me, and then, I think about how you did. I don't get it, I can't even pretend to. So what if you didn't always get along with everyone? Hell, I don't get along with half of them! And so what if they didn't believe in you? I did—I believed in you. Merlin, I believed in you. I guess I still do, even though you're not here, and even though I know—fear—you're never coming back.

Please come back, Draco. Make me ashamed of thinking that—rub it in my face, just please, please come back. I don't know how much longer I can last if you don't. I'm just so tired. I'm tired of wondering if you're okay—tired of being afraid and, above all, tired of fighting. We both knew you were always stronger. As much as I wish I could, I just don't get it. I would have given you anything—everything. I know that probably didn't seem like a lot, stranded in the middle of a dark forest with three dozen other people, but I was good for it. I am good for it. Those promises still stand—I promised you forever, and even though it's been over a month, that promise hasn't changed. If you come back, I can prove it.

Has it really been a month? Lying here and thinking about you as these moments just pass by, makes me remember when you told me you would turn my tired moments into moments of pleasure. And you did. Merlin, you did. You always made me feel so alive. You reminded me of what I was fighting for and why I needed to win. I really can't do this without you. No one seems convinced of this. They keep telling me that I need to get over it, that they had seen it coming all along, but just because they aren't convinced doesn't make it any less true. I need you to be strong. Without you, I'm useless. Please come back.

They say it's hopeless, but I know it's not. Waiting for you, I mean. They say you're just another deserter. They say that you're long gone and that, really, I'll be lucky if you don't tell him our plans—our strategies. They say it with such conviction... they really think you're going to betray me—that you have betrayed me. I don't believe it for a minute, and really, I wish they would just belt it.They shouldn't want me to believe it because if I do, I'm fairly certain I'll just give up. I can't fight without you. Why can't they see that? Please, come back and help me prove them wrong. Come back for me. Please, please just come back.

Fini.