Harry had always loved fire. He loved the way the hot flames danced around, the way the colours varied from blue to bright yellow and orange. It was just so warm, so full of life.

 

He saw the same fire in Draco's eyes every time that the boy was excited or angry. It was like blue-ish gray flames were lit up, licking his pupils and struggling to get out of the iris. Draco just looked so… Alive. Proof that there was emotion behind the icy shades of gray his eyes, beyond which no one but Harry was allowed to get.

 

*

 

"Harry, are you even listening to me?!"

 

As Harry snapped back from Draco's eyes to reality, he could still see the flames, dancing with anger, which would no doubt be cooled down to gray ash in just a moment.

 

"'Course, babe."

 

"Well, then please explain why the sheets in our bed are red?"

 

The fire was still there, icy cold but still so hot that Harry feared it'd burn if he looked too long. Draco's eyes were the thing that had gotten Harry attracted to him in the first place. It was the small, coal black pupils and that… fire.

 

*

 

"Harry!"

 

"What? Oh yeah. Well, they've been green for the past two years; I thought it would be a nice time for a change."

 

"Fine, I get that, but red? You might as well have made them Hufflepuff yellow."

 

"Oh, come on, it's not like I'm a huge fan of green, either."

 

The flames in Draco's eyes shot up. They were blazing fiercely and Harry was surprised that they didn't set the whole man on fire.

 

"For Salazar's sake, why do you have to be so difficult? I seriously should have just stayed with Blaise, he was so much easier."

 

*

 

The words stung Harry like the furious swarm of canaries that Hermione had set on Ron in 6^th year. Draco knew very well what a sore subject Blaise was for Harry, and he never took advantage of it unless he was really angry.

 

All of a sudden, Harry didn't think that the fires in his boyfriend's eyes were so friendly anymore. They looked simply dangerous, more like Fiendfyre than the homey fireplaces that they usually were.

 

Harry turned around and stormed out of the living room, into the bedroom, and crashed onto the bed after turning the sheets bloody green.

 

*

 

Blinking wildly to keep the tears inside, Harry lay on the bed, face to the wall.

 

Why won't he just go back to Blaise if I'm so unbearable? Harry thought. He could make the whole bloody house green if he'd want. See if I care.

 

Harry thought once again about that fire in Draco's eyes. For the first time in years, it had reminded him of the coldness that seeped from Draco during their years in Hogwarts; and Harry couldn't help but to think about seeing Draco sneak away with Blaise that one time in the middle of the night.

 

*

 

Harry remembered how shocked the entire school was when the ice prince of Slytherin (or the King of Ferrets, as Ron liked to refer to him) came out and announced that he was in a relationship with Blaise Zabini. At first, most people thought it was a joke, but after a few weeks of holding hands and mysteriously being sick and unable to come to class at the same time, everyone was convinced that they really were serious.

 

Their relationship had lasted four years, until Draco left Blaise for a newly befriended Harry.

 

Still blinking back tears, Harry fell asleep.

 

*

 

Harry woke up to the sound of Draco quickly undressing and climbing onto the other side of the bed. Neither one said anything; Harry just curled up even tighter in the (bright green) covers and tried to ignore the man who lay next to him.

 

But something suddenly caught the black-haired man's attention. A slight… tingling feeling radiated from the sheets, and ended just as quickly as it had started. Opening his eyes, Harry saw a sea of red blankets, and in the middle of them, a pair of gray eyes with a familiar fire burning in them.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

*