vagary / scorp + albus
mischievouspotter:
The realization of what he had been hinting at during dinner, when he asked him if they could move in together…. how could he have been so stupid? How did he miss what his friend – his best friend – was trying to say? And now to see him sitting there on his bed, curled up into a ball, it pained him. He couldn’t bear to see Scorpius like this, weak and frail. Scorpius was the strongest man he knew. It was because of him that Albus was still alive to this day. And he failed him by not seeing how he was slowly wasting away.
Albus sat quietly, his eyes fixed on the other man as he cried out, apologizing to him. What did Scorpius have to apologize for? He’d done nothing wrong. The only thing the blond was guilty of was trying to live a life that didn’t depend on his father’s money. If either of them should be apologizing, it was Albus, who had been so ignorant and blind that he was oblivious to his best friend’s well being. He tried to tell him, tried to tell him that he needn’t say anything, but his throat wouldn’t allow it. He was too choked up to say anything. What could he say anyhow? Nothing he could say would make it better, make the pain that Scorp was suffering through go away.
But he had to do something.
He reached out, his arms finding their way around the other man, drawing him close and holding him tight. He would take care of him. He had to. If he didn’t, he would surely lose his best friend, lose his only reason for living. Albus ran his hand through the other’s curls, as he pressed his lips to Scorp’s forehead he could feel his own tears begin to fall. “Don’t,” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t say that. You’re not disgusting. Not to me.”
Scorpius felt like a mess. He looked down at his shaking hands, and how he arms were so slender, his hairy chest so strained, the skin pulled taut against his bones. He looked down at himself, and he realised all that he had become. He used to be so strong, a keen quidditch player, with strong arms and toned muscles, and now he was a mere slender shadow of himself. He felt disgusting and a heavy weight hung inside him, all because of the realisation that he had let himself become what he had. He was too proud to ask for help, and because of this a part of him had withered and died. How could Albus ever look at him the same again?
When he felt Albus’ hands on him, collapsing into his arms, tears rushed his face once more. He felt so safe, so warm, so protected in the other’s arms that he fell into a daze - his body numb from the crying, the starvation and the simply being touched by Albus. He thought back to the attack, when he kissed Albus, the fear of never being able to kiss him again laden on his lips. He remembers that fleeting moment that they shared that one night, and how it felt to feel Albus’ skin against his. He remembers all the times Albus ran his fingers through his hair, and when his green eyes met his own. He wanted to melt back into the time, when all he had to do was roll out of his bunk and he would be able to see Albus, talk to Albus like their days weren’t numbered.
And now here he was, his eyes closed as he felt Albus’ lips against his head, and his hands in his blonde hair. He felt his chest rise and fall and how he was so small, so weak that Albus’ figure was like a cave and he was getting lost in it. Suddenly, as he opened his eyes and looked up at Albus, he didn’t feel so dead. He didn’t feel like he was going to stop, in fact, he felt like his life had just began. He looked up at his best friend, and he saw so much more. His tears receded, and then the words began to fall, and before e knew it, he couldn’t stop them.
“I wanted to die,” he said, his voice monotone, his eyes set off in the distance. “I was ready for it. After Hogwarts, after leaving you, I fell apart. It hurt not being able to see you everyday, speak to you when I wanted, because we were both so busy... I wanted to feel like everything would be okay, but - it wasn’t. Everything just got so hard... and I didn’t think I was going to survive.” The tears had made his skin moist with the product of the last few months, and he couldn’t stop them as he looked over at Albus. “Until tonight. With you. Being with you has given me something, and suddenly I feel like everything is going to be okay. You make me want to live, Albus. Because of you, I feel like I want to go on,” he breathed as he grabbed onto Albus’ hand, like it would be the last gesture he would commit. “I...” he struggled as he held the boy’s eyes, his own wet with tears. “I love you, Albus.”
And it was true. Scorpius loved Albus so much it almost killed him.
