Chapter 1
"I would have done anything for you. I love you. Why? Why are you doing this?"
"I don't have time for this, harry. Cease your dramatics. I have places to be."
"Let me go, Tom. Let me out, damn it. Let me OUT."
He made to move away, correcting his tie and watch.
"Is your job so important that you can't even look at me?"
"Please, for some time, I can't.." his breath was caught in his chest, "I just can't."
He sighed in quiet annoyance,
"I should be back by 8 pm, love. We can talk then."
Harry knew that sigh, that slight wrinkle of annoyance (the fact that it showed on his face when he would always wear his mask, never allowing any emotion past, just made his heart sink further), the promise to talk that was never fulfilled, his pleas never heeded.
He should have known it would have come to this. To this wreckage, it is now. I should have known it. When had anything ever gone his way anyway? He should have been on his guard. It was too perfect to last. Too good to be true. The other shoe had finally dropped. He used to love him and called him adorable. When did anything he did become nothing but a burden? His antics were cute earlier; his insecurities soothed away by touches and kisses, not brushed off like the barely there lint on his coat. He didn't know what he had done wrong. Why was everything he always did wrong? He tried to be understanding to the best of his capabilities, but not enough, never enough. That's why he never listens.
"Please, Tom, It's too much. I am trapped here. I can't live like this. I can't breathe. Please, Tom, let me out. Please."
"Stop being so dramatic, Harry. This manor is big enough; you know I don't want you to be caught in another dangerous riot outside. I am simply looking out for you."
"I know, Tom. But I can't live like this anymore. You're killing me, Tom."
It happened so fast. Harry was only aware of how his back hit the wall and the sharp sting across his face. His eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Harry, I never meant to.."
He could just feel the tight clutching at his chest and the feeling of small small small, and no, Uncle Vernon, I am sorry, need to run, need to be safe. And Green, everywhere he went, Green, Green, Green. He was drowning. Please, not here. I don't want to be here, anywhere but here...
Blood rushed through his head, so dark, so cold, so afraid, out, he needed out. No longer trapped in that cupboard, his magic did his bidding as it always would.
He knew this would end, so why did he not expect it? His best and first friend used people as expertly as a lute player manipulated the strings of the lute. Used and thrown away. So why did he let himself believe that this would be any different? Foolish. He wanted to tear his hair out, Foolish. It was oh so silly. He had finally gotten bored of him, he had finally served all of his purposes, and now he didn't need him anymore. But it wasn't green, and he could breathe. He couldn't bear to return to that place. No, never again. The Green only reminded him of the killing curse and made the tight clutch of fear and anxiety pound at his chest, so much Green and the terrible, terrible feeling of death, of utter terror, loneliness, and sorrow. Why was he like this? Why couldn't he forget? This was what made Tom bored and annoyed at him. He never wants to return to that place ever again. But for Tom, he had tried, day after day, night after night, not to be blinded by the Green, drowning in the depths of despair the colour green invoked in him, even though he couldn't bear to look in the mirror seeing that ghastly shade of Green in his own irises, it made him want to carve out his eyeballs. But they were the shade of green Tom adored to look into and praise him on. For Tom, he had tried, but why wasn't it enough? Why was it never enough? Why was he never enough? Why was he always such a freak, such a burden on Tom? he shouldn't be burdening Tom with thoughts such as this. It was a good thing he left; he could think clearly without all that Green though the air was damp; it wasn't the clean scent of a sterile home, it wasn't the scent of his home for so many years, and Tom, Tom wouldn't have to deal with such a burden anymore, His body trembled in the cold air, why was he such a horrible human being?