Broken Down

Broken down.

Crying.

Flames.

Roaring anger.

Flames.

Crying.

Broken down.

He sees his shadow on the wall and hates it. He sees his reflection in the mirror and hates it. He sees his own hands and hates them. He sees his whole life and he hates it. He hates himself, all that he is.

Failure.

Accusing glares.

Leaving.

Muted arguing.

Tears.

Listens.

Hates.

Flees.

He wants to know, know that it will be alright. He wants assurance, assurance that he is not a coward, not a failure, not a traitor, not a lie. But he cannot find that assurance, as those things are what he is commonly believed to be. He knows he does not deserve assurance, because he has made mistakes. He has made wrong choices.

Quiet knocking.

Ignored.

More knocking.

Louder knocking.

Ignored.

Door opens slowly.

Beauty.

Why is she here? Has she come to yell at him, berate him for his failure? She is crying. Eyes like that should never cry. A face like that should never be tearstained, too great is its beauty. So great its loveliness that he is unworthy to see it, for he is an demon, a dark thing, a midnight beast. Evil in humanity. He is wrong.

Steps.

Beauty sits beside him.

Arms around him.

Head on his shoulder.

Tears.

She hugs him, and he tenses. Her beauty will be sullied by his wrongness, and more blame will be placed upon him. He tries to pull away, she will not let him.

Flames.

Flames of hair.

On his shoulder.

Warm.

Soft.

Beautiful.

He needs for her to let go of him. He is in pain at her touch, he knows even looking at her will defile her perfection, he was a wrong thing, a bad thing.

"Miss Weasley, kindly go back to your tower."

"No."

Hot breath.

Warm eyes.

Soft fingers.

Trailing.

Her fingers run over to cup his cheek, and she kisses him. Softly, warmly, carefully.

Heat.

Silk lips.

Heat.

Her tongue and lips coax a reaction from his own unwilling ones. He groans into her mouth and begins to kiss back.

Velvet tongue.

Silk and Velvet.

Broken down.

He tries to pull away when he realizes what is happening. She refuses to let him, and he sighs. She smiles against his lips, then pulls away.

Words.

"Don't cry, Severus."

Meaning.

Broken down.

~*~

When the world falls down around you, you have to hold onto someone. Failure isn't flattering, but it is repairable. Breaking down isn't always an option, but when you have to, make certain someone is there to catch you. And if there isn't, then maybe the world does suck. But until then, a little hope isn't so bad, now is it? After all, it saved Sev's life, it saved Ginny's ((though you couldn't tell)) , and it has many times saved mine. Hope can't be all that bad. And even if it is, well then, at least you... tried. Pfft. Right. Idiocy. THIS IS GRYFFINDOR IDIOCY.

~Draco Malfoy