slytherin boys react - II

lorenzo berkshire: finding them crying in bed

you enter his room quietly, expecting to find him asleep, but instead, soft sobs fill the silence. "lorenzo?" you whisper, approaching the bed. "are you okay?"

he flinches at your voice, turning towards you, tear-filled eyes meeting yours. "no," he chokes out, his voice cracking. "i'm not okay."

sitting on the edge of the bed, your heart tightens at his distress. "what's wrong, enzo?" you ask gently, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

the moment your hand touches him, he flinches, his body tense. you pull back, trying to soften the sting in your chest. "sorry," you murmur, your voice still gentle despite the ache.

he buries his face in his hands, his sobs muffled. "i can still feel it..." he mutters, voice trembling. "i feel so disgusting..."

"lorenzo..." you whisper, your heart breaking. "what do you mean? what do you still feel?"

he doesn't respond for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. finally, he takes a deep, shuddering breath and slowly lowers his hands from his face, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes.

"i can still feel her hands on me," he whispers, his voice cracking. "i can still feel her touch on my skin, no matter how hard i try to scrub it away, it's like it's stuck in my mind..."

your heart twists at his words. "lorenzo, you didn't do anything wrong. what happened wasn't your fault."

his hands ball into fists, his knuckles turning white as he grips the bedsheets. "i know, but it doesn't change the way i feel." he says, his voice taking on a bitter edge. "i can't stop replaying it in my mind, over and over again. i can't shake the feeling that i'm dirty, like i'm tainted and ruined..."

you move to comfort him again, but hesitate, catching yourself. he notices the aborted gesture, looking at your hand with an unreadable expression.

slowly, he reaches for it, guiding it to his cheek. his skin is warm under your fingertips, and he leans into the touch, eyes closing. "please," he whispers, voice raw. "touch me. i need to feel something other than disgust."

his voice is choked with emotion as he continues, "i need to feel something real, something that's not her. i need to feel your touch, your touch alone." he says, his grip on your hand tightening. "please, i need to feel something pure and good. make me forget."

tears fall freely down his face, wetting your palm as his pleading eyes lock onto yours. "please, make me forget," he whispers. "her touch, her voice, her scent... make me forget everything except you. please, i can't take it anymore."

your heart aches, and you can't refuse him. you gently wipe away his tears with your thumb. "i'm here," you murmur softly. "i'm not going anywhere. i promise i'll help you forget."

his eyes flicker to your lips, a glimmer of hope shining through his pain. "please..." he whispers, barely audible. "i need to feel you, to touch you, to taste you."

desperation laces his voice, raw and aching. "i need to feel your skin under my fingers, your lips against mine. i need to taste you, to drown myself in you." he says, his breath catching. "i don't know how to make this pain stop, but i know you can help me forget. you're the only one who can,"

he looks at you with pleading eyes. "i need you to make me forget everything... except the way you feel. i need you.. only you."