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))
