whenhefalls,hefallshard,andhedoesnotbothertogetbakup,justthrowshisheadbakandughs.he’sstillughingbythetimethatharrygetsbak,beauseeventhoughhehadhurthimselfevenmoreinthefall,partofhimmusthavedhisassomesikformofpunishment,beausehehadknownfromthebeginningthatthiswastheonlypossibleresult.

“jesus.”harryswearsoften,buthedoesn’tnow,justdropsthebagofyarnandbooksandookiesthathehadbeenholdingandsprintsdownthehallwaytohim,skiddingthestthreefeetinhissoks.“whatthehellhappened,drao?”

he’snotgoodatbeingsoft,harry.he’smorewildfirethanandlelight,allhurrianewithoutthegentlerainfall.whenhe’sbeingdramatiandmenholy,draolikestotellhimselfthatitisn’tabadwaytogoout,beingburnedupbysomeoneelse’sloveforyou.

“iwantedtoomedownhere.”itsoundedstupidwhenhesaysitoutloud.allbaddeisionssoundstupidwhenyouspendthebetterpartofthehouryingontheoldfloor.“thoughtioulddoit.”

“didyou?”harryughs,findingitfunnynowthatitwaslearthatdraohadnothurthimself,andheseemstoseedraoforthefirsttime,andswears,softly,likeitwasmoreofanexhalethananexmation.“merlin,drao.”heletsgoofhimanddraohastoleanontothewallforsupport,hunhinginonhimselfinordertohide,beausehedidnotlikethewaythatharrywasstaring.“yourhest.”

“it’snothing.”draorossedhisarmsoverhimself,tryingtooverasmuhskinasheould.heknewwhathelookedlike—hadseenthebruisesfromthebriefgnesinthemirror,thesabsandthesrapsandthebitsofskinthathebeenrippedatawkwardedges,howpalehewas,thehollowsunderhhisribs,thesarsrossinghisarmsandstomahandurlingoverhisshoulders—andknewthatifhehadthehoie,harrywouldnotbeseeingit.nowthathetakesamomenttothinkaboutit,draothinksthisi

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