matching wounds || 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐮𝐬

brighter than the blue sky

What would you call the state of mind when you don't exactly feel like anything? What was it like to be left with an utter, overpowering emptiness?

There was a feeling of hopelessness settled deep down in him, planted by a tiny seed and growing larger. Albus knew that feeling like an old friend, they'd met long years ago. Days like this - there were so many of them, he gave up counting.

Albus lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Who would know for how long? Might have been an hour, might have been five. He should've written his essay, he should've eaten properly, he should have gotten out of his bed. Still, he just lay there.

"Brought you sandwiches." Scorpius voiced as Albus watched him put two pieces of toast on the nightstand.

"Don't feel like eating."

"You ought to."

"What? Will you force me to eat?"

"If I have to," Scorpius gave out a nod. "Because that's what we do, Al. We help each other. We heal each other."

"You heal me." He thought, the thought that was replaced with a bitter one immediately. "You destroy me, you moron. You shatter me into pieces. You make me love you, and it makes me despise myself. And I can't help it, I can't stop it. Make it stop, Scorpius!"

"I don't need healing."

"Everyone does," Scorpius was quick to object. "They just can't accept it 'cause they're too frightened."

"Whatever." Albus waved a hand. He will not be having any of it, he will not be listening to this. Just not now.

"Maybe James does too. Have you ever supposed that?"

"So is it about James now?" Albus laughed sharply.

"Why won't you even listen?" Scorpius's eyes were two cubes of melting eyes, and Albus was melting just like that.

"We've talked about it."

"But that's not fair, mate, is it? You know everything about me, my family. And you never let me help you with your stuff.

"Because my parents are so bloody nice, and my family is so bloody happy. What else d'you want to hear?"

"Whatever you say." Scorpius shrugged, eyes ridden with disappointment.

"Yeah, exactly. Just drop it."

So, he did. Scorpius dropped that, but who he never dropped was Albus. He was still there, always there. Waiting for him on his bad nights, chatting with him on good ones.

For most people, home was a cosy place with a large bed and a fireplace. Albus's home had snowy hair and a crooked nose. Albus's home had the prettiest of smiles. Albus's home would laugh at his not-that-funny jokes. Albus's home was Scorpius Malfoy.

And he was getting worried now. Albus hated doing that, hated seeing Scorpius like that.

"I'll have the sandwich." He nodded eventually.

***

It was well past midnight. Albus stretched his neck out of the bed curtains - Scorpius was hung over a book, the end of his wand being the only source of light. And Albus still didn't know why he'd choose to study that late.