FOB Meme Dreo - “You can only blame your problems on the world for so long."
“You can only blame your problems on the world for so long."
It was a heavy sentence to hear and an even heavier one to contemplate. Draco’s fingers tightened around his cup of tea, no longer steaming. He’d lost track of how many hours he’d been sitting out here with Theo, watching the waves gently lap up against the shore. It had been a relaxing vacation, and one they’d both needed, but the aftermath of the war was always something that lingered in the background of Draco’s mind. The wound was too fresh, and despite his immense happiness — unexpected as it was — he could feel it festering there, like a dark, pulsing black hole that threatened to consume him from the inside out.
It could have been a harsh thing for Theo to say, but his tone was such that Draco knew he wasn’t being cruel or condescending. He wasn’t accusing Draco of passing blame so much as he was reminding Draco that he was doing so.
“It’s so much easier, though,” Draco said. Theo reached past him and gently tapped the side of his mug with the tip of his wand. Instantly, steam rose again from the cup, and Draco took a grateful sip before continuing. “It’s easier to point at the Ministry and say it’s their fault, or to point at all of the people who let my father get away with so much before finally bringing him down and say it’s their fault, or to look at my grandfather and…”
Theo put a gentle hand on Draco’s arm and simply said, “I know.”
Draco looked up, gray eyes to brown. Merlin knew he could always get lost in Theo’s eyes, but in that moment, it wasn’t the love or the tender exasperation that Draco focused on. It was the sheer, undeniable knowledge that Theo knew. He knew the weight of a bad father. He knew the way the world could look at you, be so cruel, and cut you down so unforgivingly. But what was Theo doing now? He had a fund for poor Hogwarts students, a newspaper, a Quidditch team...and so much more. Theo had taken all of the hate and anger the world had heaped onto him and fashioned them into badges of honor. Things to be proud of. Ways to better himself.
Maybe he was right. Maybe Draco couldn’t blame his problems on the world any longer. Maybe it was time for a change.
He placed his cup down on the table and reached his hand out, gently resting it over Theo’s. Their wedding bands gleamed in the lights as lanterns lit up all along the terrace to combat the darkness of the setting sun. Theo turned his palm up and entwined their fingers together, giving Draco’s hand a soft squeeze.
“How much of that blame do you think is mine?” Draco asked him, his eyes not rising from their joined hands.
Theo’s free hand reached out, a finger tilting Draco’s head up with the slightest pressure beneath his chin. Slowly, Draco lifted his gaze, too, looking into the quiet, warm, and understanding stare that greeted him. A warmth began to spread through his stomach, creeping up his arms and into his fingers. The knowing smile that graced Theo’s lips told Draco that he felt that warmth resonating in the rings they shared — the connection that made their bond that much more intense.
“Not nearly as much as you think,” he said. He leaned forward, his lips connecting with Draco’s in a way that sent that simmering heat in Draco’s gut into a fully-roaring fire. When it came to Theo, Draco was ridiculously easy to ignite.
And just like that, Theo chased away all thoughts of blame, guilt, and war. Just as he always did.
