Word count: 1211
For my darling Ana
It's raining again. Blaise yawns, stretching out lazily and listening to droplets hit the windows, beads of water racing one another down the glass. The sound makes his eyes heavy, and his mother isn't around to scold him for lounging in the parlor (too busy entertaining future husband number six… or is it seven? Blaise has lost count.).
His mind begins to drift, and he barely notices the sudden frantic tap, tap, tap. Maybe he does notice, but he just writes it off as more rain, a harder downpour. Nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary.
"Blaise, if you don't open this door, I swear…"
That definitely isn't the rain. As far as he knows, no weather phenomenon can perfectly mimic his boyfriend's voice, and the frantic tapping grows louder and more urgent. Blaise is on his feet in an instant, hurrying to the door. Theo is on the other side, dripping wet and shiver, his thin arms wrapped around his wiry body, and Blaise wonders if he's trying to keep himself warm, or if he's trying to hold himself together. Blaise doesn't ask; he doubts Theo will answer him honestly.
"Not that I'm not glad to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?" Blaise asks. "Did you walk?"
"Don't be stupid. I took the Knight Bus most of the way."
Blaise raises his brows, silently pressing him for more information. Instead of answering those unspoken questions, Theo pushes past him, dripping water onto the floor. Blaise doesn't worry about it. The house-elf will clean it up, and his mother will never even know that anything is amiss.
"What are you doing here?" Blaise repeats.
"I need a drink."
Blaise rolls his eyes, sighing heavily. Sometimes it's like talking to a brick wall. He loves Theo, but the other boy has never been the type to talk so easily about his feelings, even when he's so clearly distressed like now. He'll do anything and everything if it means avoiding the truth for a little longer.
"Go to my room," Blaise tells him. "Dry off and change. I'll be up shortly with a drink."
And then Theo is gone, and Blaise deflates slightly. So much for a peaceful afternoon. "Bopsy!"
The house-elf appears, bowing so low that her nose swipes over the floor. "Yes, Master Blaise? How can Bopsy be helping you?"
"Clean up the mess on the floor. I will be in my room for some time. Do not disturb me."
"Yes, Master Blaise!" she squeaks.
Blaise knows she will be too busy cleaning to notice him getting into the liquor cabinet. It isn't like his mother will realize anything is gone. She and her newest toy spend so much time, wrapped up in one another that they'll probably just assume they drank it during one particularly passionate night. Blaise scowls, plucking the bottle of Scotch from its place. If only his mother actually cared; maybe then he wouldn't feel so alone now as he tries to figure out what to do with Theo.
For good measure, he fixes a quick plate of fruit, cheese, and slices of bread drizzled with garlic-infused olive oil. Maybe it isn't the romantic circumstance that brings Theo to his door, but Blaise will do what he can to make things a little lighter.
Satisfied, he heads upstairs. Theo is on the bed, wearing Blaise's clothes that are just a touch too small for him. He doesn't complain or tease, and that's what makes Blaise really worry. Normally, Theo doesn't know how to shut up. What has rendered him so speechless?
"I fixed a little treat too," Blaise says.
Theo doesn't seem interested in it. He reaches for the bottle, pulling it away from Blaise and opening it. He doesn't bother with a glass; he just drinks it straight from the bottle, desperate gulp after desperate gulp.
"Are you going to tell me what this is about?" Blaise asks, popping a grape into his mouth.
To his surprise, Theo doesn't avoid it and play games. Maybe something really and truly has broken him.
"Let's run away," he says, and he looks up at Blaise with wild eyes. "It would be easy, you know? Just leave all this behind and…"
"And what?"
Theo swallows dryly. "You know it's getting bad, Blaise."
Blaise nods. There's no use denying it. He's not stupid, and he's paid attention to what's in the Prophet, and, more importanyly, what isn't there. They'll never explicitly say the Dark Lord has control, but it isn't hard to work it out.
"Father wants me to join," Theo whispers.
It's like all the air disappears from the room. Blaise just stands there, lungs forgetting how to work, staring at Theo. He understands the words, but they still don't make sense.
Maybe it shouldn't be a surprise. Caspian Nott is a Death Eater, after all. Why shouldn't Theo follow in his father's footsteps, just as Draco followed in Lucius'? Some might even call it the natural order of things, something that ought to be expected. It still feels like a punch in the gut.
"You can't," Blaise manages to whisper at last.
Theo's lips quirk into an amused smile, a silent no shit. He takes another drink, eyes closing for just a fraction of a moment. He sits the bottle aside. "We have to run," he says. "That's the only way I can get out of this."
Blaise wants to laugh and tell him how ridiculous that is, but he can't bring himself to dismiss it. Theo is right. As long as he's here, his father will push him, and no one can deny the Death Eaters for long. Theo will bend until he breaks, and Blaise doesn't want that for him. He's seen the way it's changed Draco into a hollow shell of the boy he'd been before.
They're both seventeen now, and they've got enough gold between them to live comfortably for a long time. It wouldn't be too hard. They can survive because that's what Slytherins do. When the going gets tough, they save their own skin and leave the fighting to those who don't mind sacrificing themselves.
He can't believe he's even entertaining the idea. If anyone else had talked about running away, he would have laughed in their face. But not Theo. For Theo, Blaise would do anything in the world if it meant keeping him safe.
"You're sure about this?" Blaise asks. "Once we leave, there will be no turning back. Not until this war is over."
If it's ever over at all. Merlin knows he isn't sure that Harry Potter can do whatever it is that he does. There's no saving the world, and he can't help but feel completely and utterly fucked.
"I know." Theo nods. "Let's do this."
His mother probably won't even notice that he's gone. Blaise doesn't know if he feels hurt or relieved by that realization, but it doesn't matter. She will find comfort in someone's arms, and Blaise will make his own life.
He takes a deep breath. He's always dreamt of starting a future with Theo, but never like this. "Ready when you are," he says.
It isn't a perfect beginning, but it is theirs, and that's all that matters.