#sniffing

I’m just out here sniffing flowers

Seemed like the thing to do on a hot summer’s day. I had to fill the birdbath again too.

Even the bugs are out here sniffing 😂

I like the color on this one. 😁

Prompt: "Wet", Bingo prompts: : canon re-write, + scars Words: 357 @drarrymicrofic *** Draco's lying there on the floor. Wet. Of blood or water, he's not sure. Probably both. The tiles bite into his back, sending cold shivers through his body, but he can't tear his eyes away from him.

He’s soaked too. Glistening like the cold flint of his eyes.

Red.

So it is blood, Draco thinks distantly, as though the thought belongs to someone else. As though it isn't his blood covering Potter's hands, his clothes, his face as he looms over him.

His breaths come in short, shallow rasps. He wants to tell Potter to get help, but his mouth won't cooperate. His tongue feels swollen, too large for his mouth. Maybe he'd bitten it. Maybe that was where the metallic taste flooding his mouth came from.

"Fuck. Shit. Shit, shit..."

The words reach him as though through several layers of magic, slow and unhurried. He'd always imagined dying would be louder.

With considerable effort, he manages to turn his head. The blood seems to be everywhere. It’s too much outside of his body. Too much—

"I... oh, God. Why didn’t you, fuck—”

Potter is suddenly much closer, leaning over him as though he can't quite believe what he's seeing. He must have dropped to his knees. Draco can feel the heat radiating off him. Potter draws one sharp breath, then another through his nose.

"Holy fuck...you smell..."

Before Draco's sluggish mind can catch up, Potter bends down and drags his tongue across Draco's chest. Or rather, across his shirt. Then the fabric is gone. Potter's tongue is against his skin. The scrape over torn flesh burns sharply enough to wrench a gasp from him.

"God... Malfoy."

Potter sounds awestruck. As though he can't quite believe what's in front of him. What’s on offer.

"I can't control it." Potter's breathing grows uneven, frantic. "It wants you. God…I’ve marked you and now it wants….it fucking wants—” Potter drags in another breath through his nose, “The wolf, God. Malfoy, I can’t, I’m sorry—I’ll wipe your memory afterwards, I promise.”

And then teeth sunk into the flesh of his neck and Draco knows this isn’t death after all.

---- So, @upon-poppyhills, I've been infected by your werewolf-Harry in "Crash into me"! When Harry SNIFFS Draco, ahhh!!! I've never really recovered from that scene. So, consider this my humble homage to werewolf- Harry, and thank you for feeding this fandom with so many incredible stories!! <3

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