"You're such a prick! I knew you hadn't really changed. You're just back to your old ways, torturing me." Harry can still feel Draco's hand around his arm. Their breath mingles as Harry's eyes rove around Malfoy's face. "You probably enjoy it too."
...
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Author's Note: Imma just leave this here ^
Two Years Later...
Harry pushes the metal key into the lock and turns. His apartment is dark. Empty.
He flicks the switch on and pulls open the blinds, but it's already dusk, and so there is no point. The remnant of the sun pours into the room and leaves an odd glow on the bland walls. His shadow creeps across the room as he walks into the kitchen.
He's always so tired when he gets home. Being an Auror drains him like nothing else. He's not sure how much longer he can continue doing it at this rate.
Harry had to move into an inconspicuous apartment in a place where no one could find him. He's constantly hounded, and so he had to find a place where he wouldn't be recognized, or at least not as much.
He washes his hands and dries them, and his eyes go down to his fingers. They always dip down to his fingers- his very empty and bare fingers. He squeezes his fists and sighs before getting a glass of water.
His eyes catch the attention of a letter resting on his kitchen counter. It's dirty and smudged and it looks like water or something hit it because it's all wrinkly. He grabs the letter and his water and walks towards his bedroom and slips his shoes off.
He unfolds the letter, curious as to what it says, and brings the glass to his lips as he reads it. The cold water slides down his dry throat, and he-
He screams.
A sharp burst of pain slices through his skull, and he cries out. It feels like someone is twisting a knife in his head. He collapses onto his knees. The glass is long forgotten and shattered upon the floor.
The knife twists and twists and twists, and tears pour down his cheeks as he writhes. He cradles his body as the onslaught of pain never relents. Time morphs and changes as he lays there.
He sobs as his head screams. Or maybe he screams. Everything is ringing and blurry, and he wants to stop the pain. Merlin, he'll do anything to stop the pain.
It's in every cell of his body, every corner, and crevice of his mind. It digs and digs and digs until he is entirely on display. There is no point in fighting it.
His cries turn to gurgles as his eyes flutter shut. His world won't stop spinning and whirling and shaking- he can't stop shaking.
And then he feels that welcome pull. The darkness beckons him, and he lets it guide him until his consciousness fades to nothing...
***
Draco rubs his chest. A pain lodges itself there, and he has to press his eyes shut. It's the oddest feeling.
