Edenic

The Wild Haired Girl//Pansmione College AU- Part 2

@slytheringirlsgang event: Slytherdor Ships

A/N: It’s literally taken me so long to finish this because I write like one sentence a day with all the studying and stress I have going on at the moment! I don’t know whether to keep uploading these here or to stick to AO3, so let me know whether you want to keep seeing these on Tumblr! 

Also callout @fortesques I love u so much

Part I

It’s raining heavily when Pansy sees her for the second time.

Her head is still pounding from the alcohol that slid down her throat so easily at 3 am, with chants of encouragement from her friends. 

Millicent and Draco didn’t seem to be aware that their encouragement wasn’t actually necessary; the taste of menthol tainted vodka sticking to her throat is the only thing that almost erases the memory of the sweet scent of jasmine that still lingers in her nose before she drifts to sleep at night. 

It’s a very cloudy day, but the sun is still too fucking bright, making her squint behind her sunglasses as she takes a sip of her Americano, the taste of gin that she’d carelessly chucked in from her flask burning at the sides of her cheeks.

“Fuck.”

The rain starts suddenly, pouring down and drenching her within seconds, hair sticking to her face and her sunglasses now covered in droplets that now completely obstructed her vision. 

“Fuck,” she mutters again, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head and rushing towards the nearest possible roof. The fucking cherry on top though, is stepping into a massive puddle and feeling the muddy water soak through her brand new white Adidas trainers and find its way inside her socks. 

Finally sheltered under the roof of a nearby bookstore, she whips out her phone, swiping past the drunken group photo that graces her lockscreen and dialing the first number in her call log; the same number that permanently held the spot. 

“Malfoy, bring me an umbrella.”

The voice on the other end of the phone is that of a hungover 20 year old man that had clearly just woken up.

“Good morning Draco, how are you today? Would you maybe consider being so kind as to bring me an umbrella?” the irritation and sarcasm in the voice of her best friend causes her to roll her eyes and sigh in frustration. 

“I’m drenched." 

"I’m asleep." 

"You’re an ass, that’s what you are.”

“Goodnight, Parkinson.”

“Draco–” she groans at the dull sound of an ended call. 

A frigid wind causes her to shiver and, with another groan, she opens the door to the bookstore, immediately colliding with a bent over figure and feeling the heat of her coffee trickle down her front. 

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Just a little stardust//Marauders Era: Ted Tonks x Andromeda Black

A/N: Short and sweet for my neonata, @cruciotus I love u so much babe 

She has galaxies in her fingertips. That’s why he feels stars igniting in his lungs when she so much as grazes against his cheek. Suddenly he knows what it’s like to create stories, compose melodies and weave words into poems, just by brushing your fingertips across someone’s skin. 

He takes a breath and instantly, she knows that, whatever words follow, will be so profoundly heartbreaking that they will crease her velvet heart forever. 

“You make me feel so much myself it hurts.”

She wasn’t wrong. He says simple words and the cosmos unravel from his mouth. She collects the falling stars in the dip of her collarbone, lightly strums the strings of his heart and the air seems heavy as she speaks,

“I’m only half myself without you.”

The Wild Haired Girl//Pansmione College AU

Request: Pansmione college au!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: Here you go @pansyparquinson, hope I did it justice and you don’t divorce me u dick. This is only a part one/preview, which is why it’s so short. I will be posting this as a multiple parts fic on AO3 so if you want to be notified about that, let me know! You can find my AO3 here if you’re interested! xoxo

Leaves falling to the ground become an every day occurrence this time of year, as does the strong scent of freshly brewed coffee that fills Pansy’s every sense as she enters the small coffee shop, discovered only a few days back on a rushed trip to the library.

The soft ding of the bell that dangles above the door makes the hint of a smile flicker on her face, clearly worn by nights spent awake by the light of her laptop. She walks towards the counter, trying to ignore how heavy her head felt on her shoulders. The smiling face of the familiar barista greets her, as it has for the past week, and she mumbles a greeting, surprised by the hoarseness of her own voice.

“Skinny caramel latte, please.”

With a friendly nod, the barista writes her already familiar name on the paper cup. Why he’d remembered her name so quickly, she doesn’t really know. Maybe it was because it was an odd one, and maybe he’d developed a crush. Before she ingested her daily dose of caffeine, Pansy didn’t really care.

“Hermione Granger?” a question mark practically floated through the air at the end of the name, the puzzled boy clearly wondering whether he’d pronounced right. Or whether he’d spelled it right, perhaps.

Before she knows it, the familiar scent of coffee is almost erased by the sweet scent of jasmine, almost pouring out of a wild haired girl that has somehow appeared right by her side. The stranger comes closer and closer, with seemingly no intention of stopping, and for a moment, Pansy thinks she’s going to kiss her, her heartbeat suddenly racing past the speed of her suddenly jumbled thoughts.

“Excuse me,” the girl utters with a smile, grabbing the cup that, apparently, had been right behind Pansy the entire time.

“Oh,” she stutters back, “Sorry.”

She’d never admit it, but in that moment, Pansy almost felt her heart break a little, the anticipation of the stranger’s smiling lips still stuck in the back of her head. 

Final blurb my loves! I know a lot of them ended up as cliffhangers, but I’m considering doing multiple parts if you guys want to see them, just let me know!

The night was surprisingly cool for the beginning of summer, and a chill ran through Y/N’s spine for a moment, causing her to shiver slightly, the cup of tea in her palms shaking along with her. A sudden need to look at the oddly starry night overwhelms her, and she catches glimpse of something flying through the air, a feeling of ease taking over her body, despite the odd, unsettling sight.

She takes a few steps towards the kitchen table, sitting down, cup in hand, and opening a book which was marked at its final pages.

A flip of the page. A sip of tea.

A flip of the page. A sip of tea.

It becomes a steady rhythm.

A flip of the page. A sip of tea.

And a knock on the door.

She turns to face the door, feeling her heartbeat quicken as she grabs her wand from the kitchen counter, holding it firmly between her fingers and slowly making her way to the door.

There is a familiar click as she unlocks it, a common creak as she opens it, and the clink of her wand falling to the floor once she catches glimpse of what’s behind it.

Sirius Black.

Twelve years later.

Face worn and pale, cheeks hollow, hair knotted and messy, grown far past his shoulder. But his eyes, they hide the same glimmer they had when they were 20, their laughter brightening their world in the darkest of times.

“Hello,” his voice is hoarse, like it’s been silent for far too long, and a hint of a smile appears on his face at the sight of her open mouth and widened eyes.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” his smile morphs into the familiarity of a devious smirk and she steps aside, her facial expression unchanged, letting him step into the corridor of her apartment.

“It’s good to see you,” he continues as the door slams shut. Y/N attempts to respond, hunting for words in the shocked whirlwind that her mind had become, but all that leaves her mouth is a puzzled squeak, followed by laughter pouring from his lips.

Laughter that is stopped only when she decides that words wouldn’t be sufficient even if she did manage to utter a few and presses her lips to his, the warmth of reconciliation coursing through her veins and making the chill of the early summer’s day disappear as quick as it had appeared.

Thank you so much my love, this means the world to me! xoxo

Harry sat in front of a collection of tombstones, one far too big for a group of people younger than twenty. His glasses lay on the dew stained grass, an attempt to blur the vision of grief that stood before him. Emerald eyes stare into the distance as the sun rises further in the sky, its pink tint becoming brighter and brighter.

“There you are.”

He hears a familiar voice, turning to his side to see Y/N taking a seat next to him on the damp grass, her arms wrapping around her knees as she stares ahead with him.

Somehow, the air becomes lighter, and even staring at the grey, sinister tombstones of his friends seems easier, even though Y/N doesn’t say a single word, simply looking ahead with him.

The sun had now risen fully into the bright blue sky of the spring day, its rays almost blinding the two figures sitting on the grass in the middle of the graveyard.

After hours of silence, Y/N speaks.

“This is just the beginning of another chapter, you know?” she whispers, her voice cracking from being quiet for so long, “It’s a tragic ending, painful, sad, awful, but it’s just another beginning.”

His eyes finally look away from the names engraved in gold, meeting hers. She notices the glimmer of tears in the corner of his eye, and her fingers intertwine with his as they turn back to staring absently into the distance.

An hour passes before the silence is broken again, this time by Harry himself.

“It’s going to be okay, right? It’s going to stop hurting?”

Her fingers tightened around his, and his grip tightened at the very same moment. Even though words were exchanged through the feeling of skin on skin, she spoke them, her voice almost overflowing with confidence.

“It will. Everything will be alright.”

“Live a little, Longbottom,” Y/N’s words echo in Neville’s head as a frown appears on his face, his mind storming with puzzled thoughts about her words.

He knew the y/h/c haired, free spirited girl had a point, and a good one at that, but he couldn’t help but feel offended by her words. He stole a glance at the laughing girl, surrounded by her friends, and feels a surge of courage, finding his feet move towards her.

He reaches her sooner than he expected to, taking her by the arm wordlessly and pulling her to the side, provoking a series of “oooh"s from her friends. Her response to this was simply sticking out her tongue, attempting to conceal her surprise at his forward approach.

Before she manages to ask him what’s come over him, he speaks, his words shocking her even more than being grabbed and dragged to the side by the usually shy boy.

“You know those pranks you pull all the time? I want to do one with you.” his words are rushed enough to leave him practically breathless at the end of his demand.

“I’m sorry, you what?” she looks at him, completely bewildered.

“Exactly what you heard.” he feels his confidence fading, stuttering over his words as he attempts to keep his gaze fixed on hers.

“Neville, you know you don’t have to prove yourse–”

“I’m either doing it with you or I’m doing it alone.”

She raises her eyebrows in surprise, a sly smile spreading over her face as she gives him a nod.

“Whatever you want Longbottom. But you’d better brace yourself.”

Only 3 blurbs left loves! Hopefully I’ll be finishing them off tonight and posting them tomorrow!

“I know, he showed me,” Y/N responded to something her best friend said, something Ron hadn’t quite caught. The knowledge of who the ‘he’ may have been overwhelmed him with anger, however, and his grip tightened on his quill, almost snapping it in two.  He closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath in and opening his eyes before exhaling.

He began writing again, eyes darting back and forth from the blackboard that was filled with the quick and elegant script of Professor McGonnagal. Soon enough, too soon, in fact, he heard another mention of the dreaded, “him”, coming from the lips of the same pretty girl whose words he’d been trying to ignore for fear of breaking his quill.

“He said so himself, Hannah,” Ron’s parchment tore under the sudden strength of his quill pressed against it, causing ink to reach the neat, polished oak of his desk. Instead of trying to clean it up, or fix the essay he’d been writing on the transfiguration of objects into living things, he found himself turning around to face his flame and her friend, his eyes flashing angrily.

“Y/N, we could all do with a little less talk about your boyfriend while trying to focus on our work,” his tone was surprisingly official, and he felt puzzled at the astonished look the y/e/c eyed girl gave him at his oddly aggressive statement.

“I’m sorry, what?” she muttered in response, a confused frown appearing on her face.

“The ‘he’ you keep mentioning? Your new boyfriend, or whatever…” the auburn haired boy’s attempt to sound careless caused his face to turn a radiant shade of red, “No one wants to hear about it.”

“First of all, you really shouldn’t be eavesdropping,” Y/N retorted, her tone unexpectedly calm, a hint of amusement present in her words.

“Second of all, I was talking about my older brother. I don’t have a boyfriend.” she stated, a mocking smirk appearing on her face. “No need to get jealous.”

“I wasn’t– I’m not–Shut up,” he turned back to his ink splattered assignment, feeling his ears burn with the same red tint that now completely covered his cheeks. Thoughts rushed through his mind, and before he could stop himself, he had turned back around, feeling the heat of his blushing face strengthen when she looked up and her eyes met his.

“Yes, Weasley?”

“Y/N, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” his words were rushed, nervous, barely comprehensible, but the smile that spread across her face showed him she was more than aware of what he had just said.

“I’d really like that. Provided I’m allowed to talk about my brother without being told off, of course,” she teased and he felt a smile flickering on his own face.

“You can talk about whatever you like, Y/N. As long as you let me take you out.”

“Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

“Y/N, I love you.”

“Y/N, I know this may sound forward, but I think I’m in love with you.”

Remus Lupin tried each phrase while staring in the mirror placed in his dormitory, finding each one sounding too awkward and inferior to the emotions he was feeling. After each attempt, he found his face in his palms and groans escaping from his lips.

“This shouldn’t be this difficult,” he muttered to himself. Or so he thought.

“Don’t be a dumb git, of course it’s difficult.” James Potter’s voice prompted Remus’ face to leave his hands.

“I can tell.” Remus retorted bitterly, placing his face back in his palms.

“Come on, you can continue practicing on the way to breakfast. You’ve got to eat, haven’t you?”

“Y/N, I have feelings for you, and I think most people would refer to them as love…”

“What are you, a dictionary? No, try again.” James met Remus’ proclamation with a critical tone, pulling the brown haired boy back before he stepped off a now moving staircase.

“It’s too difficult,” he responded, completely frustrated by his own fear of confessing the feelings he’d found himself having for Y/N.

As the staircase docked at a familiar corridor, he stepped off, and along with his best friend, made his way to the Great Hall. He found himself sat with his three best friends, still muttering attempts of his confession to himself.

“Let me try another one out,” he turned to face Sirius Black, whose mouth was full of scrambled eggs, his statement met with a confused gaze of his grey eyes.

“What?” the boy mumbled incomprehensibly through his food-filled mouth, giving James a glance of surprised puzzlement.

“Y/N,” Remus began, oblivious to the vigor with which James and Sirius were shaking their heads, their eyes widened as they looked behind their stuttering friend, “I think I’m in love with you and that scares the hell out of me.”

Finally noticing the exaggerated gestures of his friends, he felt his heartbeat quicken and turned around to find none other than Y/N, her y/e/c eyes staring at him in bewilderment. He didn’t have to hear her next words to know she’d heard him, his heart suddenly pounding faster than it ever had before.

“You’re what?”

Okay so this was difficult for me because I’m a big Romione shipper, but I gave it a go, even though it may be a tad ambiguous, so I hope you like it even if it wasn’t exactly what you wanted @antoniaang!

Her kisses give him toothaches. Sugar burns holes in his cheeks, seeps into his veins, sticks to his skin. She’s soft as cotton candy. Sweet, sweet cloud bubbling in his mouth, fireworks of his heart crackling on his tongue.

Eye of the hurricane. A deceptive lull, a foreshadowing of frenetic situations, desperate fingers tangling in his hair and his tongue allowing her name to slip off of it, smooth as silk.

Red wine. Bitter and sweet and sour, that’s what he tastes when his lips are on her neck, coated with secrets and innocence and unsaid words.

Power. It’s what she has, so much power over him, the softness of her voice when she calls his name, the flutter of her eyelashes on a hot summer’s day, sound of her laughter sinking into his skin like a painless tattoo.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, but how could one know that if its flavour never touched their tongue, never burned its way through their throat and stuck to the lining of their stomach.

Temptation. It’s the strongest when something is impossible, like the sound of her voice pouring love-filled words into his ear as the moon watches their banished passion and whispers to the stars.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, even if it means he must pocket his sins and run and hide, even if it means tasting her breath only when midnight passes, and clocks strike 1,2,3 in the morning.

Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Hermione, well… She was the most beautiful piece growing off the branch.

@fangirlhype here u go, I hope it’s up to ur standards xoxo

I’ll hopefully be finishing off the rest of these by Monday, when I’ll be opening requests again!

Dust lifts in clouds as the massive photo album falls open in front of the widened, awaiting eyes of Y/N and the smiling face of Draco Malfoy. Its leather covers are weathered by time, but the pages inside seem brand new, stainless and filled with moving pictures of platinum haired figures.

“My first birthday,” he points to one of them, a small nostalgic smile appearing on his face at the sight of a chuckling baby being held by a beautiful young woman, her dark hair cascading down to the small of her back. A man stood by them, a few steps too far to be considered part of the loving scene. Y/N noticed the change in Draco’s smile at the reminder of his father’s distance, placing a hand in his at the sight. His fingers wrapped around hers, and he looked at her gratefully, before flipping the page.

She didn’t ask about the absence of his father in the worn pictures: he didn’t want to say and she didn’t want to pry. Instead, she pointed to the picture of a boy around three, his light blondehair reaching his shoulders.

“You had shoulder length hair.” her utterance is a statement, rather than a question, and a smile appears on her face when she sees a shade of crimson covering Draco’s cheeks.

“I wouldn’t let my mum cut it,” he explained, his eyes avoiding hers, his cheeks now the colour of a ripe tomato, “I liked flipping it around.”

She begins laughing uncontrollably at his explanation, and, soon enough, he joins her, their laughter bouncing off walls and making the twilight filled room seem a lot brighter.

Once they manage to calm down, snickers still escaping their lips on occasion, as pages turned, the pictures becoming darker and looking far more miserable than the first few, ones that captured the sweet innocence of childhood in sunlit rooms.

Y/N notices the smile on his face weakening with each page, the moving figures becoming more and more somber and miserable, standing perfectly still in most of the newer photos, the only movement that of their blinking eyes.

A second small dust cloud emerges from the album when another page is flipped to reveal a blank space. Draco stares at it, his smile fading completely, his face losing all colour, and moves to close the heavy, worn album. Her hand on his wrist stops him, and his blue eyes meet her y/e/c ones, glistening with held back tears.

“We’ll fill a whole other album,” she whispers, and colour begins returning to his cheeks, “We’ll make new memories. Together.”

Now, he is beaming at her, and can’t help but throw the heavy album to the floor, wrapping his arms around her and causing her to fall over on the couch, laughter slipping from her lips. He peppers her cheeks with kisses, and before he knows it, the flash of a camera that had somehow appeared in her hand is capturing the moment of pure, love-filled happiness, as one of his kisses meets her lips.

Y/N’s step quickened when she finally spotted the tall, auburn-haired figure she’d been looking for since the beginning of the week. Shoving past clearly irritated students in the corridor and ignoring the “Watch it"s that followed her rushed paces, she finally reached the broad back of Ron Weasley, grabbing him by the shoulder and watching, slightly skeptical, as he spun around on his heel to face her. His eyes darted away from hers and fixated on the stone wall behind her instead, prompting a frown to appear on her face.

“Are you avoiding me?” her eyes narrowed with the question that slipped past her lips instead of a ‘hello’.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” he shrugged, his eyes still refusing to meet hers.

“Ron, why are you avoiding me?” she attempted to meet his eyes, her head moving to wherever his eyes wandered. It didn’t quite work, however, his eyes still rushing to avoid hers.

“Ronald.” she crossed her arms on her chest and finally he looked at her, a strange absence lingering in his irises.

“Yeah?” she noticed the knuckles of his left hand cracking under the pressure of his right as he spoke, a nervous habit that was too familiar for her to give up on finding out what was happening.

“I know you’re avoiding me now. I just don’t know why,” the hurt in her voice prompts his lips to open slightly, but as soon as he notices, he presses them back into the previous, nervous expression.

“I’m not avoiding you, alright. We just haven’t crossed paths is all.”

“And that’s why you can’t even look me in the eye?” she frowns at his explanation, her voice cracking slightly, along with the edges of his heart. Unable to watch the wounded expression on her face, he takes a deep breath, and cracking his knuckles a final time, tells a truth that had been weighing him down for weeks.

“Y/N, I think I’m in love with you. And that scares the hell out of me. And I know you can do much better, and I know we’re just friends and you’re interested in what’s-his-face, but I can’t help it. So I thought staying away was the best way to, y'know… Avoid this messing up our friendshi–”

His soliloquy is interrupted by her lips pressed to his, leaving his lungs empty of air and his hands shaking slightly as they found their way to her waist.

Pulling away only seconds later, she beams at him, her fingers slipping between his: “Well, all you had to do was say so.”

People were everywhere, dancing joyfully across the makeshift dancefloor, many of their faces graced with droplets of exhilarated sweat. The familiar red coats of Durmstrang were scattered through multicoloured silk gowns and ironed black dress robes. It was a flurry of excitement, really, one that seldom happened in the halls of Hogwarts, happy and careless.

George Weasley found himself separated from the crowd, standing by one of the many round tables that remained perfectly neat despite the nearing end of the Yule Ball, and their repeated use throughout the night. Something about the crowd just didn’t appeal to him at that moment, and so a goblet full of firewhiskey appeared in his hand and he sat at a chair with pale satin thrown over it, watching the party with a small smile on his face.

A shadow soon covered his lap, prompting him to look up and find Y/N standing by him, hands on her hips and a face which clearly tried to substitute worry for anger.

He could practically feel his face light up at the sight of her. A dress the colour of light champagne cascaded down her body, hugging her hips in a way that was indescribably and unexplainably captivating, and before he knew it, he was standing up, towering over her by a few inches.

“Why aren’t you dancing with everyone else?” despite her frown, she fails to repress the slight worry at the life of the party being sat at its side rather than in its center.

“I was waiting,” his face is now graced with a grin, a mischievous glint hiding in his eyes.

“What for?” she narrows her eyes at his response.

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@goblackhatwithme u seem a tad frustrated there buddy, so have this Cedric blurb in which I kiiiinda combined both your prompts xoxox I am sorry if it’s not very good, I love u.

Excitement filled her mind the moment she woke up, immediately painting a grin onto her still sleepy face. Without waiting another second, Y/N pulled aside the curtains of her four poster bed, grabbing a pile of clothes from the chair nearby and rushing into the girls’ bathroom.

Within simple minutes, she’s standing outside the y/h common room, a small bag in her hand and an excited smile beaming and seeming to light up the entire corridor, somehow glowing even brighter when she catches a glimpse of her date for the day walking towards her.

Cedric Diggory appeared to be even happier about the day ahead than Y/N did, even though to her, it seemed impossible. As he finally reached the entrance of her common room, he wordlessly placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Hello gorgeous,” he said, his smile audible even in his voice. She felt her excitement lodge in her throat, but managed to utter a sweet, “Hello,” in response as they began walking.

“Excited?” he looked at her, his smile almost mischievous.

“Of course! I’ve been looking forward to Hogsmeade with you all week,” she beamed, only to find his smile vanish, replaced by a worried frown.

“Love, have you looked outside today?”

It was at that very moment that they reached the massive archway that led to the courtyard, and she felt her own smile vanish as she saw the flurry of rain pouring down outside, the statues in the middle of the courtyard almost invisible through the rushing water droplets being pushed by the wind.

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@immobulusmalfoy​ here you go love, I changed it around a bit, but I hope you don’t mind! xoxo

Loud cheers and laughter overpowered every thought that may have otherwise been running through Y/N’s mind as she poured a glass of gigglewater for herself. The Gryffindor house was tasked with organising the post-exam celebration this year, and its members were definitely up to it: banners in all four house colours were plastered on the walls, charmed paper cranes in the very same hues fluttering around happily, presumably the work of Hermione Granger.

Having filled her goblet to the brim, Y/N, brought it to her lips, taking a sip, which was spat out in surprise only seconds later.

“Fuck, shit, fuck, fuck,” she muttered to herself as she placed the goblet on one of the many tables placed around the room and moved in the direction opposite to the all-too-familiar seventh year Slythern who’d just entered with his usual posse.

She made her way through a thickening crowd, repeatedly apologising for bumping into people she barely knew and keeping her eyes glued to the ground in order to avoid ones she didn’t expect or want to see. As she absentmindedly walked past her classmates, she found herself bumping into a tall, auburn-haired figure. It soon turned around, a grin on the boy’s face and a sigh of relief slipping from her lips when she realised it was a familiar one.

“Weasley, thank god,” she spoke, only then realising how out of breath she was from the rush of her getaway.

“That is my name. Well, one of them,” George Weasley retorted, clearly tipsy.

“My ex just walked in here with a bunch of his cronies,” she continued, trying to ignore the way his eyes seemed to smile at her above the edge of his goblet as he took another sip of firewhiskey, “Could you just pretend we’re really deep in conversation so he wouldn’t come over? Please?” she pleaded.

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Hideous//Golden Trio Era AU: Draco Malfoy

A/N: Short and not the best, but I feel really bad not posting while I’m away so I hope it’s not that horrible! 

I can’t bear the idea of my soul being hideous.

The words sound like poison.

Corrupt, malicious, deadly.

Pouring from his father’s mouth like a fatal waterfall, said with pride and certainty, grazing his pale skin like a freshly sharpened knife, heavy as steel and just as cold.

For a small infinity, he stands, still, silent. He feels his legs shaking, palms sweating, heart pounding harder than ever before. Listens to the screams in the back of his mind, screams of “NO” bouncing off its glass walls and shooting through his veins and straight to his heart, its steady beats resembling the sound of “Help me.” more and more with every instance.

He finds his pale hand reaching to shake his father’s, finds himself pulled into a stifling embrace, wanting to scream, punch, kick, run. Mind far, far away from his trapped body, filled with purity and thoughts of how to run, how to hide. Mind strong as Hercules, certain, decisive, completely dedicated to the idea of getting away.

And so he does.

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