Arthur sat quietly besides george for a long moment before he pulled him into a side hug, resting his cheek against the top of george's head. "you did good, y'know. he'd be proud of everything you did during the battle." - fractuscantus
their victory is as HOLLOW as the space beneath his ribs where a dull ache ebbs and flows with each beat of his heart — he cannot bring himself to REJOICE at the triumph of good over evil when his entire being had been CLEAVED so suddenly in two.
silence greets the words spoken, fingers toying with the pine cone end of his brother’s wand in a bid to DISTRACT from the harsh lump that sits unmoving at the back of his throat; lip is drawn between teeth, pressure applied to no avail as singular tear marks its lonely path down dirtied cheek, ❛ it could’ve been me, dad ❜ nails curl into wood, tips stilling as heavy breath shakes bowed frame, ❛ it could’ve been both of us. ❜
it takes a few seconds for ELABORATION to fall, unfocused eyes fixated on a point in the distance as memories are dredged to the surface, ❛ just before he called the ceasefire, i was disarmed. i thought i was a goner, i thought ❜ breath catches painfully, a humourless bark of laughter peeled from within, the sound grating in the quiet of the great hall, ❛ i was going to tell him. thought he’d probably’ve called me a FOOL. ❜
the weight lifted by way of CONFESSION is replaced by a sudden suffocating grief, & it’s then that hand moves to cover bloodshot eyes, lip once more caught in canine’s savage embrace; what comes next is a WHISPER at best, a manifestation of guilt and sorrow clawing its way into the light, ❛ maybe maybe i was supposed t’go with him ❜
