take my hoodie ✓

sixty | scared

fuck i need to hurry this shit up

~no pov

"Draco?"

Voicemail.

Harry didn't mean to forget to go over to Draco's. He simply got his ass beat and then almost killed himself and then opened up to his cousin a bit before pushing him away right after.

Once Dudley left, Harry sat against his door and checked his phone, with a blade in his hand again. He couldn't help but turn back to the silver again. He craved it for months but stayed strong, but there's only so long a person can stay strong for.

His right arm was bleeding lightly, but not enough for him to go through what he just did hours before. His left arm held his phone as he called Draco over and over.

"Fuck it, I'll just go over to his."

Harry stood up, feeling lightheaded and dizzy again. He decided to make another deep cut and wrap it up with the medical kit Dudley put back in his room. Changing his clothes was a bit of a pain, but he ignored his body telling him to rest to go find his boyfriend.

Climbing out the window was also a bit of a pain. Both his arms ached like no tomorrow, and he almost fell off the fucking roof, but he didn't so it was what it was. Walking in the dark with music in, Harry felt peaceful, before he realised where he was and overthought everything.

what if he was dead?

what if he kicks me out?

what if he's not even there?

Taking a deep breath, Harry laughed at his dumb over-exaggerations and snuck into the Malfoy Manor the way Draco taught him to, leading right into the blond's room. Harry's heart began to race when he saw the room empty, with the en-suite door closed. The light was on, he could see it.

Was Draco in there?

He walked towards it and, when he realised it was locked, he felt sick to his stomach. That couldn't mean anything remotely good.

Harry didn't know how to break down a door like some sumo man, so he settled for kicking it and hoping Draco wasn't near it, or leaning against it. It immediately hurt Harry more than the door, so he rushed through the hall to get a fire extinguisher.

Being the posh, rich family they were, the Malfoys had a fire extinguisher on each floor. It was a good precaution though; if the Manor set on fire and there were no extinguishers, everyone would be fucked.

Using the giant, red canister, Harry broke the door down, luckily only off its hinges. He didn't plan to break the door completely.

On the floor, Draco and a bottle lay, both seemingly empty. Harry smelled the awful stench coming from the toilet and knew what had happened. He kneeled down next to his boyfriend to check if he was alive.

He thanked God, Allah, Jesus, Buddha and every other god or religious figure he could think of for Draco being alive.

"Wake up, asshat." He nudged the boy. His pulse was slow.

He decided to splash water on his boyfriend's face, but that too was no use. Draco was out cold.

"Wake up." Harry yelled. "Wake up you idiot. WAKE UP."

Tears formed in his eyes, because he wasn't fucking waking up. He needed help, but how? He didn't want to get Draco in trouble, but was that really the problem here? He wasn't fucking waking up.

"Wake up, Draco. Please, Draco, don't do this to me." He lifted the blond into his lap and cradled him, crying into his hair. His beautiful, soft, messy hair.