take my hoodie ✓

sixty-five | bad

bad

sad

dad

rad 🏄‍♂️🤘

LMAOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY WAYY22TOXIC MY WIFEY (if its still ur bday its the 6th of dec rn)

~no pov

"I was the one that found you. I overheard Dudley screaming at Crabbe and Goyle, because they were why your uncle found out about you. I found him standing above you, and he was holding a shattered bottle tainted with your blood. You were bleeding from almost everywhere, I swear.

I took you away, running with your body in my arms until I found your cousin. He called the ambulance, and I just held you. I was so scared, just like you were on Christmas. But with you, it was worse, because you were actually in danger. 

I didn't think you'd make it, if I'm being honest. You don't understand how bad it was, seeing you like that. It really seemed like you wouldn't make it. You're so strong for surviving, though. I don't know how you did it, but it's impressive. If it were me, I wouldn't have made it, I know it. I would've given up. 

I'm glad you didn't."

Harry kissed his boyfriend. "That's not what I meant."

"You said talk to me. I'm talking."

"Talk to me about what happened with you. I don't care about me, I care about you."

Draco sighed. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"I relapsed, and I tried to kill myself. I was going to jump off the roof and wait to see you, because I didn't think you'd wake up. You don't get it, Harry. I saw how bad it was, how bad you looked. It was terrifying.

When it happened, I didn't know what to do. I felt sick, seeing the damage done to you. I threw up in the hospital. I didn't do it on purpose, it just happened. And then I felt really hungry, so I went home and ate, and then I couldn't stop. I just kept eating, and eating. For a solid month, I binged. 

Then I realised how much weight I put on, and it made me sick. I still purged, but it wasn't doing enough. Overexercising wasn't doing enough. So for the next month, I starved. I only ate when absolutely necessary, and still purged everything I ate. It was bad, really bad. I blacked out in the middle of an exam because of it.

I decided to go back and forth the third month. I starved all week until Sunday, which was when I'd spend all day eating and purging. I've been doing that for a month now. It felt so right, to just let myself hurt over and over. The aching feeling of being hungry felt comforting.

But it's bad, Harry. It's so, so bad. I can't- I- I'm so sick. Like, I'm getting weak and thin and I'm losing hair again. It's not even what I want anymore. I don't want to be thin, I just didn't know how else to cope. 

And I pushed away everyone, so no one noticed. Everyone in our group hates me because I decided to be a massive dick to everyone. Everyone asked me how I was the day after it happened, and I snapped. I needed the world to shut up. I needed them to hate me.

So, er, I fought them. Like, physically. I punched Weasel in the face, the Weasel twins, Dean, Seamus and Neville too. I didn't hit any of the girls, because I'm not that awful. I did, though, tell them all that they were stupid, ugly and unlovable. I was so sick that I almost picked on their insecurities, but I didn't.

I couldn't bring myself to hurt Pansy or Blaise, so I just shut them out and insulted them anytime they came near me. They gave up after a while. I became the Malfoy I was before you, the stupid, rude dickhead. The one everyone hated. I focussed on school and only school.

It was hard, because I came into school high and/or drunk most of the time, but Hermione always gave me a copy of her notes even though I'd shout at her for it. She didn't give up on me, but she did. 

No one realised how bad it was because I shut them out. Literally no one. Dudley, maybe, but he didn't do anything about it. He let me into your house a lot, and let me into your room. I basically moved in. Half of your clothes smell like me, and my own clothes smell like me again. Why the fuck do you have half of my clothes?

Anyways, I got a new tattoo. Two, actually, but one of them I got ages ago. I think I just forgot to tell you about it. Oh yeah, the tattooist, Aaron, is married to Joseph the nurse. They were both worried about me. I punched Joseph in the face cause he wouldn't leave me alone.

You missed my birthday, by the way. I celebrated it here, with you. I had a cake, which I ate all to myself. Dobby didn't know I'd relapsed, so he assumed I'd be sharing it. I did not. Oh right, Dobby didn't know either. I was a dick to him too.

 My father was nice to me. He loved the person I became. I hate the person I've become.

I almost punched him. Oh, I also think I have some sort of hunger-developed, rip-off anger issues. I've been so angry for months, like, so angry. I've been punching walls left, right and centre, to the point Dobby had to get someone to come fix them.

I broke them right after. Dobby gave up the third time.

Er, I think that's it. It's been bad, but it's fine. You're here again. I won't let it get bad again, I swear. I'm okay now that I'm with you."

Harry sighed. "I love you, Draco, but that's not how it works. We both know that. You've ruined yourself. You're gonna need help, Draco, because it is bad. It's really fucking bad. I don't think I can be your singular support system anymore. I think it's time you seek professional help."

Draco chewed on his lip like it was gum. He developed a habit of chewing gum all the time, to the point that he found himself jittery if he wasn't. 

Fuck.

It's really fucking bad.