This is NOT meant to be happy. Get over it. Mine is not a happy nature, it's three A.M., and this almost mirrors how I'm feeling right now. Take it or leave it, I couldn't care less. R&R though, if you want.
It's pathetic, really, how many sappy writers create stories where two guys come to the discovery that they love each other, fate brings them together, and they live happily for the rest of their lives. Together.
Actually, it's almost sickening.
Scratch that, itis sickening.
Because that's not how it works.
That's never how it works.
No. What really happens, is one guy is straight, handsome, and loved by everyone, with a wonderful, brainy girlfriend. He's great at anything. Everything.
The other guy is small, his pale skin marred by fading bruises – reminders of home. He is weak, and shunned, smart – not that anyone cares.
And he is in love. Not in lust, where you want another's body. Not the sappy love in the aforementioned fictional writings. No. This is real, deep, painful, bone-jarring love. The kind that leaves you wishing you could die, because you know it's unrequited. The kind that feels like a knife slicing through your heart when your love ignores you.
Yes. And it doesn't end all happily and smarmy, either. Sadly.
It ends with the person in love being ignored and shunted by their love, who is completely oblivious to the other.
It ends when the fool's love asks his girlfriend to marry him, and they will have perfect, smart, adorable children together, and they live happily ever after, blissfully trying to forget the pain of the past, because it tainted even the purest souls.
But not the fool.
No.
The heart broken fool goes into a depression, so deep, and so hopeless, that it consumes him.
He wastes away, pining for his love, his family gone, the heir to his fourtune, and completely, utterly mserable.
It Ends, it all Ends, when the fool, heart broken and alone, caring for none other than that one, single person, and being cared for by naught in return, takes a knife, and cuts ribbons into his arms, along all the veins, until he slowly, slowly bleeds out the pain, the suffering, with red coppery rivers, that pulse with perverse joy.
That is how it ends.
And I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, am that fool. My love shall live, forever happy, in the arms of his wife Hermione, and their soon-to-be-born child, to be named Sirius.