Category: Angst/Sad/Pain
Recommended: Listening to the YouTube video, whilst reading this.
(Warning: might be cringe but detailed)
☔︎︎☔︎︎☔︎︎
The bathroom is a familiar place, isn't it?
Draco always spends half his time in the showers, tilting his head up to really feel every prick of the shower rain onto his face.
He's never felt this bad before.
Letting the water sting his eyes, he never felt pain, not anymore.
☔︎︎☔︎︎☔︎︎
It was that night that had changed everything, the rainy cold night. The skies were dark and the stars were barely seen as the fog of the heavy rain surround the sky, the moon hidden behind the darkened clouds.
It was a nice day to walk alone in the heavy rain.
So Draco took his boots, his jacket, and his umbrella. Then, walking around at the empty streets.
He inhales the scent of the rain, and exhales with fog coming out of his mouth, the rain was so cold that even if Draco had himself covered with an umbrella, he still felt cold and soaked.
Draco wanders around, not thinking where to go mainly, just around and then go home.
The thunder cracks, he knew something came bad.
...
The black umbrella stumbles to the ground, Draco's weak body stands still, letting the heavy rain soak into his thick clothes whilst the sight in front of him soaked into his heart and it hurts. Realization hits his lungs.
Harry danced with someone else in the rain. Another dude he didn't know, another man that wasn't him.
They laughed, swung together in a hug under the yellow-gold stained lamp.
Draco shakes, standing alone in the rain under the flickering broken lamp.
Draco's body felt like jelly, but at the same time it was stiff, he didn't know what to feel. Was he about to puke up the butterflies which now was stuck in his soaked body? And is now not able to escape and fly away? Why won't it fly away..?
The once calm rain turned into an acid to him, it felt like it was digging into his skin and into his blood.
His eyes were blurred, his tears filling up his eyes up to the brim, timing into the rain, his tear falls down his cheek and so did the rough rain. His face was now salty with rain and tears, so was his feelings but like the hidden tear within the rain, his salt hid behind his heart.
Afraid to come close, why can't he? He was Draco Malfoy, the toughest guy on the town.
Why does it feel like it's torture now? The rain was supposed to be calming and only the enjoying feeling of when the cold hugs you.
Not the hug that colds you.
Draco turns his heel back, grabbing his now soaked umbrella from inside to outside, and covers himself with it.
It felt useless like him, so he just placed it down and closed it when he was hidden from the two, letting his face crumble like his heart, his personality.
His face scrunches from how hard he was crying, his eyes turn red from irritation and his heart lacked immediate attention.
It hurts like shit, Harry was just his friend then why was it such a hit?
He can't feel his lungs, it's tightening. His world crumbles, he can feel it quaking.
He drops onto his knees and holds into his chest, hoping his fingers would be long enough and deep enough into his chest to hug his own heart but it just felt hard. His lungs were too hard from breathing heavily between his sobs.
He wants to scream, but would it really mean?
If Draco lets it all out, would it be worth the work out?
Because it feels like as if he was lifting weights, he felt so high like a shaking person zip-lining into the depths of the heights.
He stopped drinking alcohol, he stopped because Harry had told him it was trouble.
He stopped smoking, he stopped because Harry told him it was provoking.
He stopped his addictions, because of his compulsion.
He loved Harry, but he stopped because Harry told him he loved him.
And that him will never be Draco.
☔︎︎☔︎︎☔︎︎
He remembers it all, clear.
Ironic because it was a foggy confusing night. And how come he still loves the same damn guy?
Draco closes his eyes and it feels better, he exhales and let the warm water run down his hair and body.
The bathroom is a familiar place, isn't it?
A better place, crowded by yourself and only yourself. It feels like soft rain, only the shampoo which stings your eye. It feels like warm, only the red faucet on.
Unlike outside in the rain, the painful empty, not really, streets. It feels like harsh rain, the acid stinging your eye. It feels cold, only the other in a hug.
See?
The bathroom is always a familiar place, right?
