Title : Raw

            Rating : PG-13 for now.

                Warning : Mature themes.

                Disclaimers : Harry Potter is Rowling's.

                Comments : This is a spur of the moment, late night kinda fic. And it's definitely the first draft. It probably doesn't make sense or have a plot. I can't decide what I want to do with it, so I'll leave it here for a bit. And there's probably Ron x Harry or something.

Alright, I'm really annoyed right now, because the format won't come out the way I want it to. What's wrong with ff.n/me/the world??

                This is brilliant

                Ron arched his hand further and pounded it against the wall.

                screaming, screaming, screaming in pain

                He heard a crack, the sharp stinging sound resonating in his ears.

                Pain crashed through him, rolling in waves, tidal waves that swept everything away.

                He couldn't hear anymore, except the rhythmic thud of the back of his wrist against this wall, cutting through the thoughts he didn't want to think, cutting through the voices he didn't want to hear.

                this is fucking brilliant

                Breath fell from his lips in staccato rushes. His eyes widened in deep pleasure.

                I can't believe I never thought of it sooner

                He returned to his seat at the Gryffindor table, cheeks flushed. He ran a trembling hand through his hair, pursuing his lips as he stared vacantly at his plate.

                Seamus's loud laughter startled him from his trance. He could hear Harry's soft voice, so soft and so calm. Speaking as quietly as possible, as if he was still scared that someone might reprimand him. His fingers found his silver fork, picking it up, turning it around, twisting it this way and that so it caught the light and glittered.

                The roar of laughter reverberated through the hall.

                His eyes roamed the hall aimlessly, his hands dully tapping the fork against the edge of his plate.

                Did someone crack a joke?

                Too dense to realize it. Maybe they're right. Maybe you are stupid.

                What?

                A wave of nausea gripped him, and he dropped the fork and closed his eyes. It clanged loudly on his plate and it sounded like the only sound in the hall, but no one noticed. His fingers crept to his throbbing wrist. He could feel a lump, aching quietly, and he pressed it.

                Oh

                He straightened, eyes snapping open to stare at the ceiling and its many stars.

                The tinkle of Hermione's laughter drifted uncertainly to his ears.

                Are you a part of all this?

                His heart went cold. His fingers pressed harder, and the pain was better.

                I am.

                Are these your friends?

                He gasped silently, his eyes darkening.

                They are.

                He sank his nails into that bitter lump, brow furrowed slightly.

                Then why don't they care?

                They do. Fuck off now.

                He bit his lip petulantly and pulled his fingers away.

                "Ron?" Harry touched his shoulder.

                He turned, his dark eyes staring unblinkingly.

                "Dinner's over." The green eyes met his warmly. "Let's go."

                He smiled and stood up, following Harry and Hermione towards the common room.

                You haven't eaten.

                The tangy taste of blood filled his cold mouth.

He swallowed triumphantly.

                Yes, I have.

               

                "Ron!"

                His eyes flicked to Harry's face. "Yeah?"

                "Is something the matter, Ron?" Harry asked softly. "You've been so quiet tonight, and you didn't eat at dinner." He sat on Ron's bed and took his pale hands in his own.  "You know you can tell me anything."

                Ron stared at their entwined hands. He could feel the angry burning lump at the back of his throat.

                Tell him you're jealous of him

                He chewed his lip furiously.

                Tell him you hate him

                He wanted to say 'no' and 'shut up' to the voice.

                Tell him you love his green eyes

                Tell him you want to kiss his scar

                He opened his mouth to say it.

                tell him you want to rip him apart

                tell him you want to sink your nails into his skin

                But the words wouldn't come out.

                tell him you're hurting

                tell him about the pain

                tell him about the scars

                tell him how ugly you are

                His mouth contorted in agony.

                tell him you love him

                "No," he wheezed.

                tell him you love him

                tell him

                TELL HIM

                TELL HIM

                TELL HIM            

                TELLHIM

                "No!" He shouted angrily at the voice. "Go away!"

                It was suddenly silent. He looked up at Harry, frightened.

                Harry was looking at him, green eyes bright with hurt and anger.

                And then the voice was back.

                See how you hurt him

                He'll hate you now

                Forever

                He cried out, and jumped to his feet.

                Please

                No

                And fled from the dorms.

               

               

                ~?