iris | drarry

chapter 16

When Harry finally woke up for good, he wished he hadn't. 

He let out a soft groan as he sat up in bed, his head pounding ferociously. His eyes fluttered open, his brain taking a bit longer than usual to process where he was. He looked down to see a green duvet covering him, the decor and things around the room not belonging to him. He realized with a jolt that he was in Draco's room, which meant... which meant this was Draco's bed. 

"Morning."

He jumped a bit at the voice from the doorway, turning to see Draco there. He had a cup of water in one hand, something else in another cup in the other. 

Harry rubbed this head, giving Draco an awkward smile. As he searched his thoughts for what happened last night, he realized he had pretty much no recollection of what happened.

"Morning," he let out with a croak. 

Draco walked over, putting the glass of water on the nightstand. He sat down on the edge of the bed, holding out the other cup to Harry.

"Drink this. It'll help with the hangover," he said, his voice slightly clipped. 

Harry frowned, taking the cup and peering inside to see a thin black liquid staring back. He tilted the cup back, drinking the potion quickly. The taste was bitter with a thin sweet layer, as if to try to mask the horrid taste of the rest of it. He grimaced, placing the empty cup on the bedside table. As he sat there, though, he did start to feel better already, his pounding head fading to a slight thumping. 

"Thank you," Harry said softly, not meeting Draco's eyes. He knew the male was angry, he could tell just by his face, his tone of voice. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, Harry vividly aware of Draco's eyes on him, his own on his fingers, picking at each other. 

"Harry," Draco finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry didn't say anything. He didn't look up, either, just bit his lip, staring down. 

"Harry."

This was a much angrier tone, causing Harry to glance up at the male. 

"Yes?"

Something in Draco's face changed, then, from anger to something sadder, a mixture of worry and woe. He reached out a hand, Harry's breath catching in his throat as it reached up to his face, his thumb gently rubbing over his cheek, leaving behind a path of fire that burned to Harry's core.

He then dropped his hand, looking away from Harry, his gaze dropping to the floor. 

"Do you want to die?"

Harry felt like he was smacked in the face. He opened his mouth to say 'No, no of course I don't want to die, I want to live, like any normal person would.'

The words that did come out, though, he wasn't expecting. 

"Some of the time."

Draco's eyes shot to him, and Harry wanted to take it back. He wanted to take it all back. He didn't meant to say it, he didn't know he was going to say it, he didn't want to. But he knew it was the truth. 

"I don't- I-" he stammered, staring at Draco's shattered eyes. He needed to explain, he had to tell him, he wanted to tell him. 

"I'm not- I'm not actively trying to die," he started, trying to get some of the panic and worry out of the male's expression. "I'm not going to kill myself, I promise. It's more like- Well- There's this voice, in my head. It's there all the time, has been since I was little. Whenever my aunt and uncle would beat me, or starve me, or lock me in the cupboard for days... It was there. Telling me I deserve it, that I'm worthless, I deserve to feel the pain."