Harry's eyes moved upward towards the sound of movement; shuffling feet, door quietly closed. He saw his lover, Draco, standing there, jaw hanging slightly and eyes burning with a sorrow he wouldn't speak of for anything.
"Hi, Harry. How was your day?" Draco tried to keep his voice steady and strong as he placed groceries upon marble counters, unloading the bags. Hands shaking. Eyes threatening to water. Heart near exploding from disappointment.
"Good, love. Yours?" Harry picked up the small razor once more, and began pressing it down upon the white rocks in a careful, precise manner. He smiled in pleasure, re-rolling the dollar bill and placing it above the line of treasured powder.
"Good…" Draco muttered, letting his eyes travel over to Harry. Harry's face was lowered, unruly hair obscuring the view, and Draco shook his head, finally letting the tears roll down his flushed cheeks. It broke his heart to watch his only love wasting away for such a terrifying habit, but Draco would never even mutter a complaint. No. He'd always just watch, shed countless tears, and hope to God it would someday end.