severe + s.s. & l.e.

02 of 07

the thoughts in his head were a violent ocean. an endless body of water with vicious waves that clash onto each other.

dark, hollow eyes stared at his own when he entered the abode of despair. they seek his every move, waiting for his next action.

"severus."

it was like an icicle hanging from an edge. one touch and it will fall; shattered.

"yes, sir?"

manipulative and calculating. he sees no numbers but his mind thinks there are.

the grease in his hair is sticking on his head. they begin to itch but he focuses his attention on something else, not wanting to be a victim of the belt.

"stop it."

there is no need for him to think it through.

"what do you mean 'stop it'?"

he wants to clarify. he has to.

but his father is already standing, the belt ready and his cigarette thrown to the overused ash tray.

"just stop it, you stupid boy!"

the first hit gave a sharp, unwelcomed echo into the house.

"stop wasting your time with the evans kid!"

the second hit received a muffled cry, followed by another and another and another until there were no tears to fall and no more skin to scar.

"she isn't like you."