𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 - 𝐝.𝐦.

𝟎𝟑𝟏 - 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞

—

—

this one's dedicated to nyx-malfoy bc shes a very kinky girl. enjoy everyone !!

—

I wait ten minutes for him to come back.

The look on his face was haunting. All of a sudden, he looked both younger and older at the same time. He looked like a tired young boy in desperate need of being tucked in and told to sleep well, his hair all ruffled and sticking up, his flushed pink lips pressed together. And he looked like a weary man, silver eyes lit with dread, fear, regret, the lines near them and by his lips deepening just slightly, his brows creasing and forehead wrinkling in worry, and somehow he was dead but alive at the same time.

I'm never really sure what to do in situations like this. In all honesty, I haven't been in situations like this very often. It's what happens when you move around so often—you don't get the chance to get close enough to someone that they'll break down right in front of you. I don't know what's happened to him, though, but I do know he wouldn't dare break down in front of me if he could help it.

So I made him more coffee, because I know coffee, and I love coffee, and I understand coffee, but then he got up and walked away without a word.

And now it's been ten minutes of me waiting for him to come back. Maybe he had to use the bathroom so badly that he went through a quarter-life crisis and couldn't wait to explain himself without bolting off. Maybe he had to throw up. Maybe he's not coming back. He's probably gone to sleep.

I clear my throat, oddly uncomfortable sitting here all by myself waiting for him to come back. I get up, picking up the two empty mugs placing them in the side table where all the coffees and teas are, knowing they'll magically get cleaned. And then I pick all my things up one by one, slowly, stalling a little as I wonder if he'll come back and we'll resume our study of the runes without a mention of his previous odd behavior.

But then my bag is backed and sitting on the sofa, and it's still just me in this astonishingly cold common room listening to the crackling fire and creaking chains above me.

I turn to pack his things up, extra careful with his textbooks as I slip them into his bag, making sure not to bend his parchment as I slide the whole stack in, capping and uncapping and recapping his ink bottle three times to ensure it doesn't leak onto his textbooks, slipping his quill into the front pocket so his textbooks down snap it in half. And then I stand there, holding his heavy bag in my hand, contemplating whether I leave it here for him to find tomorrow morning or go to his dorm now to give it to him.

Is he asleep?

Probably not, nobody falls asleep that fast. I doubt he ran off so randomly just to sleep.