Unhealed wounds ➣ Drarry ; Scorbus

Chapter twenty-eight

Scorpius and Albus began to knock at the doors, each time feeling more hopeless and of course, travelling day by day.
Every time, they would spend at least half an hour in front of an entrance, after having knocked more than three times, and when nobody would answer, they would start walking back to the motel where they were staying (always the nearest to a Portkey).

Their routine became disappearing and then reappearing in another city where they would have knocked at doors that wouldn't have opened.

What demoralised them most was the fact that each time they concluded that the best decision was to walk away from a house, not much further than it, they would have found an epigraph.

The people they were searching seemed to be all dead.

But how was it possible? They hadn't discussed it out loud, but they both had understood it at night, when they were hugging the other under the blankets (since November was arriving with the cold temperatures), holding onto each other as if they were their only lifelines.

Assumably, the soulmate they were searching was the one who had murdered the other and then, tormented by agony and heartache, killed himself more recently.

Or perhaps just died of old age?

They both couldn't sleep much at night.

«What are you thinking about?» Scorpius whispered, his head rested on the shorter's chest, once.

When the answer arrived, he could feel the hesitation behind it «My family. I miss my family» he replied, murmuring as well although they were the only one in the dusty, small bedroom of the motel where they had chosen to stay for that night «And Hogwarts. I would have never thought I would have missed it so much»

«I would've never thought that I would have heard you saying that you miss studying and seeing your cousin» Scorpius giggled but his laugh wasn't as joyful as Albus remembered it.

That realisation hit him hard.

His plan wasn't working: providing Scorpius good memories before he would have had to... succumb, proving him that he loved him more than anything. They weren't having the time of their lives, travelling around England, not like he wanted: each day they felt more discouraged, each hour more hopeless.

And each second they were drifting apart.

«Let's go out» suddenly, the brunet got up from the bed and started walking around the room to grab his clothes.

«What? Have you gone mental? It's probably one in the morning» Scorpius sat up on the mattress, watching the green-eyed dressing up with the same jumper and the dark-blue jeans he, Scorpius, had worn that morning.

The fact that Albus, his Albus, was wearing his clothes, made his heart beat faster.
Since he was shorter than him, the trousers didn't fit him like a glove, but in Scorpius' eyes, they did and he was perfect.

He didn't know why, but that sight made him smile. Sincerely, happily and his chest felt lighter.

He looked good in them. Incredibly good.

«Al, you're gorgeous but now seriously. What-»

«Come on, you git» He stretched his arm and pulled him, forcing him to get up. The young Potter commenced throwing his clothes at the blond. His own clothes. «Dress up and let's go outside. I won't stay here, in this horrendous bedroom, any longer».

-

Scorpius loved how Albus' clothes fit him. They were a little too large for him since the raven-haired was more muscled and toned then him, so they kept him warmer. He liked that feeling. Besides, they had his scent. It was like being hugged by Albus all the time.