Just another drabble-tag entry. Those are really fun!
So, this is not my best fic, but I try to keep track of all the things I write so I'm still posting in as a story.
Enjoy :)
Feelings Don't Lie
Albus sat on his bed, hugging his knees as silent tears rolled down his red cheeks. He was dressed for bed, but didn't feel like sleeping and chose to torment himself further by reading the letter his owl, Gobble, has brought him this afternoon, over and over again. The familiar handwriting seemed to mock him with words Albus had a hard time registering, because they were just so impossible no matter how he looked at them, or for how long.
Dear Albus,
At first, the letter seemed innocent. There was no sign of the dire news it carried, so Albus was unprepared for what followed.
I write this to you with a heavy heart, but you must understand that this is for the best.
This affair we seem to have developed is unacceptable, and I would not allow it to continue wrecking our morals and in turn, ourselves.
You must realize that what we did is wrong. It is not the way proper wizards behave, and certainly not how a pure-blood wizard with an ancestry of my own should act. It is shameful. However, I am willing to ignore the recent events for the sake of our friendship.
Please do not respond hastily to this letter. We both need some time to think over what we have done.
Sincerely,
Scorpius Malfoy
Albus wanted to tear this letter apart. It was nonsense, after all. Scorpius was being a prat, as always.
He could not help but felt betrayal, though. In the back of his mind, he knew Scorpius would freak out over this whole ordeal. He knew it, and yet it was the Malfoy that had instigated that first kiss, and as far as Albus remembered it wasn't him that came back the next day, demanding more.
Apparently, all it took was simply a short holiday spent at the Malfoy Manor for Scorpius to start questioning himself. His father might have caught wind of what happened, or Scorpius might have told him about it, but everyone knew Mr. Malfoy was very firm in his belief that pure-bloods shouldn't meddle with what in his mind were lower-class wizards and witches, and obviously the worst of it all was a relationship that was unproductive in terms of continuing the Malfoy bloodline and producing an heir.
Spurned on now, Albus pushed himself up and grabbed a parchment and a self-inking quill, writing so fast he left smudges of ink all over the parchment.
Scorpius,
Stop being a prat. You're being ridiculous.
You were the one who started it, anyways. Or don't you remember that?
You keep telling me you're not your father. Well, then, be different now. Be better. You know you want this, too.
If you want to keep lying to yourself, then I don't this I want to be your friend anymore. I will not be the friend of a liar.
You can't deny what you feel. What I feel.
Biting his lip, Albus made the "I" larger.
What I feel. Since when love was wrong? Do you even hear yourself?
Think it over, please. Don't do something you'll end up regretting. If you're afraid of your parents, you can always stay at my house.
With love,
Al
Albus took Gobble out of her cage and gave her a few gentle pats on the head. He quickly folded the parchment and sealed it with a charm, giving it to the owl before he could change his mind.
"Take this to Scorpius, and don't let him throw it away. Make sure he reads this. Leave before he starts writing his response, though," Albus instructed the small, brown owl, receiving a determined look in response. Gobble was always trying to prove herself to him, it seemed.
Smiling affectionately, he opened the window and watched the owl fly until she disappeared in the darkness of the night.
