A/N: Written for Schermionie who is absolutely fabulous.

Scorpius

( .lethal.)

Even his name sounds

dangerous.

And Albus knows

he should

run, run, run

before the -poison-

seeps into his

-v-e-i-n-s-

before it reaches his

heart.

He knows he should

run run run

before it's

too late

(too late to see

r.e.a.s.o.n.

too late to

realize)

before that arrogant

smirk

and those

S-S-Slytherin

(c)(h)(a)(r)(m)(s)

lure him in

(lure him to the

d.e.a.t.h.

of logic,

to the

sha/tte/ri/ng

of

hearts)

He should

run run run

like hell.

Because /nothing/

good

can come of giving

his heart

to a boy

(to a scorpion,

lying in wait)

that could let it

F
A
L
L

and bre/ak.

Run run run,

Albus.

Run like

((hell)).

But he doesn't.

Albus stays.

Albus falls.

And Albus prays

that the

crash

won't hurt like

((hell))