And even the birds have stopped singing...
For when all the world's malice is endured by these handfuls of teenagers, the hush of sorrow settles in.
Carly Wren Davies is her parents' boxing bag and the very reason they need one in the first place...
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FEARS ARE SILLY. A nonsensical construct of the brain. Worse yet, there is fear in us all. Still more disconcerting is the inability to justify those fears. As though your brain developed them and entombed any rationale just to taunt you. And the absence of rationale drives you insane.
Fears are silly. And they usually emerge victorious.
Draco is resting on his back in the astronomy tower, the crown of his head pressed against the railing as he peers far ahead to where the moon's beaming light feeds all stars. But the noise of someone stomping up the staircase cuts short this serene atmosphere.
"You're an ass, you know?" Theodore blurts, having hardly even reached the top.
Draco merely rolls his head to the right but does not shift more than. "What are you doing here?" he asks. But Theodore's entry does not surprise the boy in the slightest. In truth, he predicted it. Though he had wished to be mistaken, for, that would have meant one less thing to be concerned about.
"I waited for you in the dorm, but you never showed up. I figured you would be here getting drunk. Suppose I was correct," he points at the bottle of fire whiskey sitting next to the blonde. Draco has not even opened it, but he does not tell. Instead, he settles into a seated position, pushing his back against the railing.
Theo stands across from him, arms folded. His demeanor shows no indication that he wishes to take a seat. "What's your issue with her?"
"Who?"
"You know who," sneers Theodore.
Draco sighs. He eschews Theodore's gaze by examining the floor and the asymmetrically arranged stones that structure the tower's walls. "I don't have an issue with her."
"What is your issue with her." Not a question.
"I said—"
"Cut the bullshit, Malfoy. You might get away with telling her that, but I do not buy it. You have been treating her like air ever since we befriended her, but now she is a problem for you?"
Suddenly, Draco wishes to shout, to free his heart from the painful knot. But why? His mind bursts. Why did you have to muck up our circle? Everything was flawlessly good the way it was. But rather than speaking those words of frustration, he wrinkles his brow as he realizes what he should have understood way early. The blond squints at Theo's face, which is lacquered with fury. "What are you doing?" he asks, perhaps too quietly.
Theodore matches Draco's expression, squinting in confusion. "What do you mean what am I doing? I'm confronting you, that's what I'm doing."
"No, what are you doing with her?"
Theodore provides no reply, for none shapes in his brain. He looks into Draco's vacant eyes, even more perplexed than before. But he has never been able to decipher the Malfoy. He is far too sealed. It is questionable whether anyone will ever be capable of opening this complex lock.
