The way Scorpius kissed Albus on Christmas Eve felt more like a goodbye than the start of anything new. They never really had a final ending, not in the way most couples probably did. It was merely a conversation – rather one-sided, at that – which finished them off without a single fight for it.
Scorpius seemed angry as he took what was once his. His kisses felt like an attack, his hand working Albus fast and dry but for a palm of spit. He wanted to push him away, but just the feel of him in such an intimate state was enough to forget the pain for the moment. It took everything he had not to say any of this aloud, either. He was worried if he did, something would snap and it might all be over. Scorpius might realize what they were doing and bow out before he was finished.
Regardless, he still left afterwards with some dredged-up excuse, nipping at one of the bruises forming on Albus' neck. Albus watched him go, protests dried up in his throat and pants uncomfortably wet.
Typically, over any break, they saw one another practically every day. Especially once Christmas and all its family obligations were through. But after he left that evening, Albus didn't see Scorpius for the remainder of the holidays. Scorpius didn't return any of the letters, he refused to show up to exchange gifts, and he even skipped out on their well-laid New Year's plans. Every passing day without a word from him, the memory of their two latest encounters started to sour.
By time the start of term rolled around, Albus was way past worried or anxious. He was livid. He had been trying so hard to get over Scorpius. And the universe was just throwing all of his hard work back in his face. Surely it was some sort of sign, but not knowing what it meant had him fuming.