Chapter fifteen

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The bathroom door slammed open, handle pummelling the wall, denting; imprinting Draco's frustrated anguish into the cobbled stone.

Tears owned his eyes; his body a puppet under the strings of emotions; of the ropes of memories, feelings, racing throughout his mind. His cheeks were flushed, icy pinks and crimsons coating his skin, exploding colourful sorrow along his flesh; his cheeks oozing, gnawing teeth tearing their insides.

His reflection mocked him, small shards of glass still clinging to the edges; a torn expression beaming through the cracks of their exteriors; his entire being exposed to his own taunting eyes.

He ripped a shard from its home; his grasp firm, desperation seeping from his fingertips; hand welcoming its rough edges with eager anxiety.

He needed a release.

"Draco?"

The blonde glanced upwards, the scarred teen trembling; anger twisting his arms, sorrow; sympathy tying his waist; piercing the helpless skin beneath his shirt.

Draco's gaze dropped.

"Draco-"

"If you've come here to humiliate me further, then please-"

"No, of course I haven't!" Harry stepped further into the room, worry etched onto his face; eyelashes weakened by the intensity of Draco's broken figure.

He was lean, lanky; every muscle shredded, forgotten on the battleground; his shoulder's piercing his shirt, bones desperate to release; to finally crumble, disintegrate into worthless dust; wanting to travel in the wind, hoping to find a better, brighter place; a more caring home.

Someplace far from here.

"Draco-"

"Go!" His voice was shrill, yet gentle; weakened by the tears chocking his throat, words hoarse, meaningless. "Get out-"

"No." Harry stood tall, eyes determined, pulling his shoulders straight; head held high, just below the clouds; the sunlight kissing his pale skin, breezes brushing the delicate strands of raven away from his face. "Not until I know you're okay."

Draco scoffed.

"Okay, really-really, you think I'm going to be okay?" His words were chaotic, incoherent; a jumbled mess that Harry happily deciphered. "Look at me, Harry, and tell me I'm going to be okay!" Draco span, body facing his enemy; his past presented in the form of glasses and a scar. His hand still grasped the shard of glass, grip only tightening; each second delving it deeper into his palm.

Harry's eyes faltered, fixating on the glass; the blood shuddering along it, reflecting nothing but itself; infinite blood oozing.

"What the hell are you doing!" His feet roared forward; a thunderous stomp echoing around the room, ricocheting around Draco's mind, eyes neutral, for just a second. Harry reached for the object, his fingers brushing nothing but air as Draco tugged his hand away.

"I'm trying to make myself okay." Draco spoke clearly, concise steadiness bounding; Harry's eyes flaring with confusion.

"How-How the hell is that making you okay!" Harry snapped. "That's, you're hurting yourself! How is that making you okay?" Draco's body shrank under the question, demeanour broken; eyes exuberayting a shameful innocence; truth seeping past his lips, pooling around him; his mask cracking.

"It stops me from feeling." The Gryffindor's eyes were wild, overwhelmed by pure bewilderment; greens a ghost in his eyes, bleak darkness capturing the shades; the blues hostages in their own home.

"How-just, how-what!" He spat, venom lost hours ago. "How is that-"

"It stops the memories, and thoughts and all the emotions from...from hurting me."

"Hurting you?" Harry asked softly, a gentle curiosity laced within his words. "How are they hurting you."

"Don't they hurt you?" Stricken, Harry froze. Draco watched his every movement, mesmerised; transfixed by the perplexed grief tracing delicate patterns into his shimmering orbs.

"But, not enough to do that-pain doesn't help-"

"It does."

"How?"

"Just like this." Without a single flicker of hesitation, Draco heaved the shard into his arm, diagonal to his first, slicing through the centre of the already battered skin; a cross of gruesome crimson sparkling on his skin; the spotlight cast by his eyes bright, prideful, desperate for an encore.

Harry stared in horror, and urgent alarm screaming in his head.

"Draco!"

"And now...the memories are a little less...prominent, they're fading into darkness-"

"Stop-"

"My mind can't focus on anything but the pain. My heart is desperate to pump blood around my body, it doesn't swell; doesn't care about my thoughts anymore-"

"Stop talking-"

"My brain is just trying to fix the problem; the loss of blood blurring the images both within my head, and outside of it-"

"Draco-"

"I can't feel-"

"There's a difference, Draco, between feeling-" Harry paused, hand grasping Draco's wrist; blood invading the impurity of his fingertips. He tugged his arm upwards, gesturing at the wound disgracing Draco's skin.

"And-and feeling."

His free hand clutched Draco's collar; the strength of his arm tugging Draco's entire body closer, their noses brushing; the gentle sensation roaring through both of their bodies, eyes unblinking, stare unwavering, focused; clarity of emotions racing between them; greens, blues, greys, silvers intertwining; uniting, soaring between the little space between them.

Their breaths tangled, warmth gracing their skin; cheeks flushed, puffed; chaotic lips twitching, indulged, yet starved.

"I can see it in your eyes, Draco." Harry whispered; the sound kissing the rosy cheeks of the blonde. "I can see your feelings." Tentative tenderness traced Draco's ear, the sound warm; compassion gracefully gliding towards his mind; the silence of his thoughts ringing loudly. "You can't escape what your heart says; you can trick it, but-you can't escape."

"I don't want to be trapped." Draco breathed, breathless words trembling passed his reddened lips. "I want to be free."

"And you can be." Harry reassured, the gentle nod of his head brushing their noses closer; a sweet symphony of skin embracing, echoing around the room; their hair knotting, raven wrapped around blonde; a shine shimmering so brightly between them.

"All you have to do is listen to your heart, don't push it away." Harry's finger pushed softly against his chest, pointing at Draco's heart; the feeling of frenzied beats tickling his fingertip.

He let it linger.

"Only then can you be truly free."  

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