Time had moved on for Draco, but he hadn't. Charles had simply been too important to him, and even as people came and went - as they always did - he continued to make friends, to casually flirt, and to become more okay with Charles' absence. But he never really moved on.
It was proven in the fact that he was more likely to attend events alone, still dressed to the nines, looking slightly lonely; it was proven in the fact that he still lived in their shared home and still wore his wedding ring on his left hand. He wasn't necessarily hopeful that Charles would ever return to him, but he wouldn't forget him. It would be impossible to do so, after all they'd been through.
In fact, that very moment, Draco was in - as he most often was - and settled on the couch, slowly reading and sipping at a cup of tea. It was a very normal, quiet sort of time, though all the more quiet for Charles' absence. It was lonely.
The sound of the doorbell was almost too loud, cutting through Draco's peace like a knife, though he'd had his fair share of visitors since his husband's disappearance; people were eager to try and fuss over him, to feed him, to make sure he was doing all right. He appreciated it, of course, but it wasn't the same. At the sound of the bell, he wondered who of the usual suspects it was, and rose to his feet, tea and book both abandoned for the time being.
But when he opened the door, his heart nearly stopped. His mouth fell open, and he gaped - he couldn't help it. He had to be seeing things, surely. There was no way-
no subject
It was proven in the fact that he was more likely to attend events alone, still dressed to the nines, looking slightly lonely; it was proven in the fact that he still lived in their shared home and still wore his wedding ring on his left hand. He wasn't necessarily hopeful that Charles would ever return to him, but he wouldn't forget him. It would be impossible to do so, after all they'd been through.
In fact, that very moment, Draco was in - as he most often was - and settled on the couch, slowly reading and sipping at a cup of tea. It was a very normal, quiet sort of time, though all the more quiet for Charles' absence. It was lonely.
The sound of the doorbell was almost too loud, cutting through Draco's peace like a knife, though he'd had his fair share of visitors since his husband's disappearance; people were eager to try and fuss over him, to feed him, to make sure he was doing all right. He appreciated it, of course, but it wasn't the same. At the sound of the bell, he wondered who of the usual suspects it was, and rose to his feet, tea and book both abandoned for the time being.
But when he opened the door, his heart nearly stopped. His mouth fell open, and he gaped - he couldn't help it. He had to be seeing things, surely. There was no way-
"Charles?"