Chapter 1
I’m fine.
Those two words.
Heavy with lies.
Laden with pain.
It often appears with a small, sad smile.
Sometimes, it strolls hand in hand with a change of topic, a glance to the side.
Sometimes it’s said in darkness.
A promise.
A command.
A rule that must be followed.
But it is always a lie.
If the one in question was truly stable, they would simply answer with the truth, that being; yes…
But more often than not, if someone poses the question: are you ok? It is safe to assume there is reason to be worried.
Something to address.
Something to fix.
Something that’s broken.
And if somebody notices you are not yourself, that your pain is so suffocating that you cannot break out of the cage for a mere second, then there is truly, something wrong.
Therefore; I’m fine. Is anything but truthful. And when such a lie is uttered, the speaker falls farther, and farther from fine.
These are the thoughts that run rampant through Draco’s brain.
These are the thoughts that cause him to sigh, and shake his head, letting out a bitter, sarcastic laugh.
“Of course I’m not fine!” He snapped, his voice brittle with pain.
Harry echoed his sigh, wrapping his arms around the stiff Slytherin.
“I know,” He said softly, rubbing Draco’s back. The pale boy reluctantly relaxed, leaning into Harry’s embrace.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, his voice catching on tears.
Harry looked startled.
“What?”
Draco looked up. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, eyes swimming with tears.
“Harry, I- I don't- I don’t think I’m fine. I-” he broke off, a tear carving its way down his cheek.
Draco stopped, looking horrified.
He hurriedly brushed the tear away, eyes wide. His body stiffened, pulling away from Harry and he began apologizing profusely.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to-“ he couldn’t bring himself to finish, drying his tears and getting to his feet.
A warm hand on his arm stopped him.
“No.”
Draco turned, confused, his hand on the doorknob to leave.
Harry pulled him back down on the bed.
“NO!” This time he said it with more force, his tone assertive, almost angry. Where his piercing green eyes had been gentle and warm, they now burned with equal fury.
Draco froze. He had never seen Harry like this before. He had always been a calm, stable force in his life, the only constant variable in a sea of change.
Harry sensed the fear in his boyfriend's body language, and he took a breath.
When his eyes opened, they no longer burned with fury, instead crackling with passion.
“Draco.” He began, his voice tight and controlled. “You cannot go on like this!” He clenched his fists together.
“I know how shitty your life is right now, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on!” His voice started to get louder. “Look, it’s not a freaking SIN to struggle! I’m not going to- to get mad at you for needing help!”
Draco’s eyes widened, he looked utterly shocked, his body ridged. Harry took a breath and continued, his voice slightly lower.
“You're in pain! I can see that! You're not okay! You're not FINE!” His voice broke, and he dropped his hands. “And I- I can’t do anything to help you.”
Harry slumped back into the covers, looking utterly defeated.
“Draco, I… I need you to talk to me. Please.” He sat up and reached out a soft hand, gripping the Slytherins hand. Tanned skin against pale, the two hands looked alien together. Draco noticed, wincing at his boney hand, trying to pull away, but all Harry did was squeeze harder.