IN NOX, SUM VERITAS━━DRACO MALFOY

fourteen. opia

━━━━  · 。ﾟ☆ .☽ .* ☆ﾟ. ━━━━

(n.) the intensity of looking someone
in the eye, which can feel simultaneously
invasive and vulnerable

IT WAS MOMENTS LIKE THE DAY PRIOR THAT MADE THE ADOLESCENT ICARUS WANT TO SET HIMSELF AFLAME AND MELT HIS WAX WINGS HIMSELF.    Draco knew that Louis wasn't stupid, so for him to do something that was known to carry such great romantic weight so casually as he had done the night prior was just plain cruel.

     Surely, Louis must have known that there was a hint of something going on between the two of them—or Draco was probably reading too far into it, he didn't really know at this point. It was all so convoluted. He could feel it—whatever "it" was—but he didn't want to be the first one to admit anything, out of the plain fear of rejection that would probably come after if he did say it. So he kept his mouth shut and hoped Louis would be able to read between the lines.

    On the other hand, the one that had been tainted by that looming darkness, Draco was beginning to get somewhere with the repairing of the Vanishing Cabinet. Given that it was properly killing everything that went in, it was showing signs of there being some sort of transportation. And with the closer Draco was getting with finally fixing the Cabinet, the closer he was to wreaking havoc on the school. It split his skull, this sort of double life he was leading, with the way the sun was keeping a watchful eye while the moon kept hold of all of his secrets.

    It was also in the way he had held onto Louis that night in the library that made Draco feel a tremendous amount of guilt whenever he came back to the Room of Requirement, knowing that if he'd go any further in repairing the Cabinet, he would sink deeper into that cataclysmic cesspit of darkness that waded around his ankles, never letting him see daylight again. Sure, it had been more of a haphazard hold, all somewhat nonchalant and the like with the occasional squeeze, however, it had been comforting all the same. He didn't know the last time he had felt like that. He could still feel Louis's thumb rubbing into his shoulder, a ghost of his touch still lingering.

Louis found Draco in the bathroom the day of Slughorn's party, holding what seemed to be one of his extra suit jackets, freshly pressed and in that crisp black color of the one he had worn on the train.

     "Oh, this is perfect!" Louis exclaimed, in awe at the clothing.

     "You haven't even tried it on, yet," Draco reminded him before wanting to smack his hand over his mouth at what he said.

     Louis's eyes widened at that. "You're right, I probably should. Good idea." He handed the jacket back to Draco before pulling off his sweater vest, his shirt riding up with it before he pulled his sweater up over his head and his shirt back down (Draco did his best to look away). "You wanna put it on me? I wouldn't want to wrinkle it before the 'big night'."