IN NOX, SUM VERITAS━━DRACO MALFOY

eleven. la douleur exquise

━━━━  · 。ﾟ☆ .☽ .* ☆ﾟ. ━━━━

(n.) the heart-wrenching pain of
wanting the affection of
someone unattainable

THE MORTAL HADN'T EXPECTED HIMSELF TO BE FALLING FOR THE ADOLESCENT ICARUS.     With half-melted wings of wax and feathers sticking to his back, he came to be a ruin of burnt down pride and a snuffed out ego.

   Beneath the bright, razing, moon, Louis had seen someone different the other night. He had laid his eyes on a boy who was coming close to being comfortable with who they were stepping into, not the prideful teenager that looked down at his peers, standing on his high pedestal, looking so smug and proud as though he were a statue made of marble. Louis had even thought he caught a hint of a smile gracing Draco's lips before he turned his head to look up at the stars again. There had been a funny feeling tickling his insides and he had done his best to fight the smile that had been sneaking up his face.

    Louis then began to wonder what had brought him to develop a crush on Draco since he had once been so amazed by how blinded by his own privilege Draco had been. However, once Louis had registered the vulnerability Draco was doused in that first night, something within him had changed, those spellbinding north winds sweeping through his ears and calling upon him to step in and help Draco with whatever he had come to him for.

     The common person had his hand outstretched for the fallen prince to take, waiting to see what he would do. The prince, all battered and bruised, had grabbed hold and that was when the two of them had begun walking the line between what would later become a dream or a nightmare.

    As for the prince, he was close to spiraling again and finding himself returning to square one and undoing all the, albeit small, progress he had made, all the time that had been spent with someone who could probably do something better with their time than take pity on someone who had been given everything to them on a silver platter. However, it had been enough to show that with everything they had been given, they still had to ask for a few things.

    Draco was supposed to have gone to Louis in hopes that he would be able to lend an ear, not a hand that could so easily slip in between that ribcage of his and set his heart aflame or tug on the strings that kept it intact. But Louis had done the latter and now with every passing look he gave him, whether it be a small glance with his eyes as he scanned the Great Hall or any sort of gaze that he would only see under the stars, there had been a tug on one of Draco's many heartstrings, ringing out a strange note that he's never heard before, a rather sweet tone that translated to a tune that embodied something almost hopeful.

The breezy and crisp autumn turned into a cold and biting winter as October turned into November and then November later fell under the spell of December. Louis found himself in the Three Broomsticks on a chilly Friday, sipping away at a hot butterbeer that continued to warm his insides as he slowly downed the golden liquid, the foam at the top collecting around his upper lip and creating a faux mustache of milk before he ultimately licked it away. He felt at odds with how he was the only one sitting in one of the booths in the tavern, taking up little room when there was so much space that could have been put to greater use.