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Harry wakes to the disturbing sound of his alarm clock.
It is six o’clock in the morning and Harry hates everything about this particular time of the day. It’s time to go to work.
Outside the snow is being beaten by annoying morning drizzle, and the raindrops gladly make their presence known by knocking into Harry and Draco’s bedroom window. Harry at least does not have to watch them play their little game, challenging his temper, because the blinds are there as protection.
Harry thinks back to New year's eve, when the snow had finally greeted them all. He at once wishes he had not, because the pleasant memories remind him that he’s not on leave any longer and countless hours on the field, chasing more or less evil criminals, is waiting for him. He remembers how he used to love it all, but how it with time has lost its charm. These days he worries more about him or his fellow colleges coming to harm than anything else. There’s no adrenaline rush, no satisfaction when they catch the bad guy.
The body next to Harry’s sighs and peeks out from under the thick blanket.
‘Will you turn that off?’ asks Draco with a tone that makes no effort to disguise how irritated he is to be awoken. His silver eyes glare at Harry from under the blanket, and his hair stands up in an oddly charming blond mess.
Harry startles and mutters a hasty apology before he reaches out towards his alarm to turn it off. The room becomes strangely quiet, and Harry is almost sure Draco has fallen back asleep, before he turns to look at his husband and finds him staring at Harry with intense silver eyes.
Harry’s anxiety must be showing, because Draco’s eyes soften and he reaches out to gently grab Harry’s hand. Like always, he starts twisting the golden wedding band on Harry’s finger.
‘Maybe you should make a decision now Harry.’
Harry pretends to not know what he’s talking about, but he’s a shit actor. ‘About what?’
Draco raises a brow, and their eyes meet. Silver and emerald. Draco’s gaze is challenging, and Harry looks away. He’s fighting for something he doesn’t even want, and maybe it’s right that he gives in to Draco’s push in another direction.
‘Go write that resignation letter, then come back to bed,’ says Draco, smiles at him, and places an alluring kiss with smirking lips onto Harry’s ring bearing hand. Even after all their years together Harry still blushes like he did when their relationship was just a few months old.
He bites his lip, and with a surprising amount of energy he gets out of bed, grabs his bathrobe, and heads for his study. He has a letter to write.