Disclaimer: As much as I would like to say I am J., I am not and unfortunately Harry Potter does not belong to me! This Disclaimer is valid for the whole story and I won't be posting it in the other chapters!

Enjoy!! :))

Chapter 1

The Easy Way Out

The pale moon light was making crooked shades between the trees down the hill, it was gliding across the surface of the still sea, reaching the horizon, hugging the sand with its light. Almost on the beach there was a middle-sized villa. One of its balconies was looking at the sea and the moonlight was lighting it perfectly. There was a young man in his nineteen's. His raven-black, shoulder length, hair was being ruffled by the slight wind. He was standing straight, his violet blue eyes were gazed at a point where the sea met the horizon and he was bracing himself at the parapet like he might lose his balance any second. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and shorts and he was barefoot.

The man slightly shifted his weight and took a sip from his glass of whisky. The alcohol burned inside his throat, making him feel slightly warmer in the unusually cold summer night. Blaise Zabini was enjoying the silence that was surrounding him. He wanted to be alone. For a first time in his life he did not feel the need to have a company, not even the servants in the villa. He just wanted to be all alone with his thoughts and feelings. When did he start thinking of feelings? Wasn't everything so far just about having what you want and enjoying it? It was, but it isn't anymore, he thought. Not since a couple of months ago.

A chill ran down his spine. The night was getting even colder with the wind starting to blow stronger. He did not know what to do nor wanted to know. The apathy surrounding him was less painful than actually thinking what was burning him inside. That was going on for weeks already but he did not want to stop it. It was so much easier to lay back and not think of the previous months. But his aching heart wasn't giving up. The throbbing ache he was feeling was getting stronger and even the ridiculous amount of alcohol he was pouring into his system was soon not going to be enough to stop the pain. He eased himself on the chair, put his glass on the table and put his head in his hands. What was he going to do?!? He did not want to feel this way, neither think of himself that way! Since when did he become such a coward? Coward???!! This word was not even part of his dictionary.

"Stupid, stupid idiot, that's what I am…." He thought miserably.

With that kind of thoughts in his head he stayed on the balcony till he was nearly freezing. The next bottle of whisky was waiting for him in the bar but he denied it and went to bed. He needed sleep to clear his head and probably, just probably, try to face what was haunting him on the next morning.

***

As soon as he started to become aware of the world around him, Blaise felt the dull pain in his skull. Too much alcohol, again…nothing new these days. He felt the stab in his stomach and quickly rushed for the toilet. After cleaning himself up and stiffing a Hangover potion down his throat, trying to hold it in, he felt much better.

After a quick shower he went to the kitchen to find himself something to eat. Since he had rushed all the house elves out of the place, so he can be alone, now he had to manage on his own in the kitchen. This was not such a big problem as he was quite skillful at it. He had to be. There were many times that his mother had sent him here to spend on his own and though there were three house elves at his disposal, none of them was good enough at cooking. Another reason was that he was paranoid enough not to let his mother's servants make his meals. After all, he had been a witness to not one 'mysterious' death in his home. His step-fathers were coming and going like a blow of wind and he perfectly well knew that most of them did not pass away. They were simply killed with a strong potion that his mother had invented a long time ago and which did not leave any traces. Thus he did not trust his own life in anyone's hands, at the least to the house elves, who were the ones who actually slipped the potion in the drinks.

He stopped dead in his tracks. The last statement was not true. There was one other person in whose hands he had willingly put his life… heart, and soul, his traitorous mind reminded him. He did not want to think about that right now, if, as his intentions were, he was going to try and stay sober. But as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he could not stop it. He was madly in love. His heart was aching for its other part, which had stayed with his lover. His mind with no avail tried to stop the wild thoughts of: Where is he, right now? Is he OK? Is he even alive? Am I going to see him ever again?

"Fuck. Now I am not even hungry, anymore." Blaise was now cursing the empty house. Nevertheless he made himself eat some scrambled eggs with bacon and a toast or two. After he went back to his room and exchanged the towel around his waist for some warm clothes, he went to his favorite chair on the terrace with a bottle and a cup and proceeded to getting drunk as soon as possible. He knew that's the easy way out, but he did not feel strong enough to fight against life. He wasn't even sure that there was anything to fight for.

Suddenly his mind was showing him part of those blissful last months before graduation. A pair of silvery-blue eyes was burning a hole in his temple. Two eyes, he would like to see again burning with passion and love… love?!

"Blaise, mate, you are losing your mind!" He said to himself. Now this was a ridiculous thought. Draco Malfoy was not in love with him. Blaise wasn't even sure that the guy had the ability to love at all. Not that he could blame him for that, knowing pretty well that Draco had never seen love in his life. There were only orders, coldness and masks at the Manor. He had been there, he had seen it with his own eyes. Damn, he had even witnessed the nightmares the Blond had.

Ahh, those nightmares!!! Those were memories Blaise did not want to remember… but again his too sober mind betrayed him. The pain on the beautiful face, the body twitching nervously between the sheets, and the non stopping chanting of: "Dad, don't!! Please, don't hurt me anymore!! No!!" and the horrible screams which followed.

Blaise cringed inwardly. They never talked about that. Draco would wake up with a start, tears almost dripping down his cheeks, then he would see Blaise next to him and the cold mask would slip into place. Without saying anything Draco would stand up, go to the bathroom and crawling back on the bed, would snuggle into Blaise's body and pretend to fall asleep. But Blaise knew better. He could feel the shudders going through Draco's body, but always would remain impassive, only hugging him closely. Stupid Malfoy attitude!!! He knew that if he had ever done or said anything he would've lost Draco. Stupid Malfoy Pride!!!

But he had to admit to himself, that he was the stupid one. Who, for Merlin's sake, made him fall in love with Draco Malfoy, off all people? No, there was no point of fighting, because there was nothing to fight for. He had feelings for Draco, but neither were they ever answered, nor will they ever be. It was simple as that. He loved but he was not loved back.

He couldn't get himself drunk fast enough, he couldn't take, as he preferred to refer to this state of his, the easy way out faster. Cause this was the only thing he could do – stay here, thousands of kilometers away from England, and get himself drunk into oblivion every single day, trying not to think of Draco. There was no point of going back. For what? What could he do? Go to the Manor, which was full of Death Eaters, find Draco and confess his undying love, give away his heart and soul, just to find them crushed and laughed at? He could not do that! He would not do that! He had that much pride left, although while being drunk he often asked himself if there was any point of having a pride or anything else for that matter, if you don't have love in your life. There, again this word Love!

Damn!!!Everything was so simple before this all started. A simple Saturday Night Slytherin party, as many others before it…drunken teenagers, raging hormones, a large amount of alcohol and eventually a night spent with someone random, indulging in sexual pleasure. Before this particular night in the cold days of March, everything was always about sex, about bringing yourself the highest pleasure and nothing more: no feelings, no awkward looks in the morning, no explanations needed, nothing - just pure pleasure in the act of having sex. The ultimate Slytherin way!

But this particular night had changed everything. Blaise remembered it like it was just yesterday…

XXX

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