Pierce's P.O.V
I have been avoiding the Slytherin common rooms; actually avoiding is an understatement. I have been missing the common room like it held victims of the Black Plague.
It's not that I'm ignoring everyone in the house, I'm just avoiding Draco. To be honest, it's because I'm petrified of the looming embarrassment and sexual tension floating in sharpie marker on my forehead.
It couldn't be more obvious; Harry has started to pull away, just enough to make him distant enough to avoid direct accusations without causing an argument.
I want to apologize, but the words just get stuck in the prison that is the back of my throat; like there is a set of steal bars lining my teeth. Not letting any words pass through.
"Pierce, we need to talk," the words burned my ears and made my skin tingle in a bad way.
Harry sounded so solemn and depressed, yet his words were filled with fury and blind hatred; I could've cried on the spot.
"Alright," I reply, attempting to close the floodgates, failing.
He takes my hand, pulling me into a deserted corridor, "this, is the room of requirement."
The room was quaint, with a sectional in the centre and shelves of interesting looking books lining the simple walls.
Harry took my limp hand gently, guiding me towards a spot on the firm leather couch.
"Pierce, we need a break."
There it was, the simplest yet most painful sentence that could have come from his mouth. The words made my ears metaphorically bleed. Tears begin to heavily blur my eyes, " what kind of break," I whimper out.
"A long one," he replays, solemnly.
"How long," denial of his motives sloshes throughout my brain.
"Forever."
That one simple sentence can make the world crash around you; building could be burning but I wouldn't have noticed through the swelling of my tear ducts. I was no longer aware of my surroundings; corridors began to look like classrooms, and classrooms began to look like dungeons or dormitories.
Running what felt like miles and miles made my lungs clench; clench with sadness and anticipation. Would I be the laughing stalk of the school, another one of Harry's exes, who was I?
I was blinded with anger and hatred, the all too familiar feeling took over; my body went into overdrive. I know this feeling all to well, bad things come with this feeling. Throwing myself in the opposite direction, I bolt.
Running back towards the room of requirement. Suddenly a very hard wall comes into contact with my tear streaked face. However the wall wasn't even a wall, it was the muscular chest of Draco Malfoy.
Noticing my pain he wraps his arms around me, murmuring sweet nothings in my ear to calm me down. I sob, I sob into his formerly crisp button down like I have every reason to cry.
"It'll be ok," he whispers, lightly pressing his lips on my neck, ear, and shoulders; attempting to stop my panicked state.
But the rage, the tears, and the emotion will never stop, because I made and unforgivable deal with the devil.