Your kisses scald me - they sear my neck with their smouldering prints, closing in again and again, destroying me, making me sob all the harder. Your breath is cooling and then flaming, like your eyes - they change with your desires, cold grey to shimmering fires. Your face is impassioned with sweat, a salt that slicks across your flesh so that it glows with malignantly. You sink further to the floor, your back pressed up against the wall, pulling me down by the hips, forcing me to sit upon you. This time when your lips come back, they kill my mouth with their sucking power, a tongue of pure poison tainting my innocence, depicting my vulnerability.
Yet even as you move into me, my breath hisses into your mouth, from pain and pleasure, from enjoyment and fear and the desire that this will never, never end. Your hands grip my hair roughly and push me further towards you; you listen to me as I moan gently through my tears, biting down upon my lip and tearing at it, tasting the blood as the flesh peels away. Salty and sickly sweet, you taste me, and I melt further against you. You're killing me, diminishing my soul. You are making me like you in your brutality.
When you've finished with me, when you want no more, you cast me roughly aside, smashing my body against the floor, so that I whimper rather than cry out in pain, the blood suddenly cooling to my fevered flesh. You drag yourself to your feet, moving those trousers back around your waist, scowling down at me with utmost distaste. Your eyes glide my body before you release a sigh of contempt and step over me, wandering back to your life as if it has never happened.
As I lay bruised and battered, staring across the hallway that is panelled in blood, I listen to the roaring in my ears. Its ok, because I know it will be quiet soon enough, before it starts all over again. My pain and my shame will fade deeper into my bones, shaded out by my pale and blemished skin, before you return to watch as that agony awakes inside my eyes, to study the emotions that you know will never haunt you.
So still, you are always so still. Everything about me wants to scream at you to stop this, to leave me alone and be done with it, but I want to help you. I need you as much as you need me. You are just a ghost inside a beautiful body, your silvery eyes moonlike in this wisdom - you have seen what a man your young age should never have to experience. You have watched your father die, your mother cry as she suffered against the power of the Dark Lord, your world crumble like sandcastles when kicked, shuddering down around you. You have gone through all that, driving you to the brink of insanity, and I am what you need to feel again, to know that you are alive. I am a demonstration of pain, a block for you to beat upon.
Shakily, I gather myself to my feet, my body screaming in protest as I pull open fresh cuts in my movement. My hands trace the walls as I stumble towards the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door behind me. Precarious hands twist on the tap; hungry eyes watch the silvery gush of flood that torrents into the chipped sink. I take up the sponge once again, rinsing the cuts from my body, cleaning the blood away. My hair falls into my eyes as I suffer once again to fasten up my trousers, although I know that they will not stay. You will be back soon - a brief sleep is all you need to reawaken those hideous nightmares. Like snakes in the dark, they rise up against you, tempting you down, down, until you cannot escape and are envenomed by their fangs - the very fangs of your past. You will take me down with you - you will make me feel that inside pain.
Or at least, you used to. Now you are beyond that pain, beyond numb - it seems selfish that I may stand here and cry when you cannot; it is almost a taunt to your callousness. Next time, I resolve, next time I shall not utter a sound. I shall simply accept - after all, I am helping you.
The water rushes down my throat, travelling through my body as it traces the streams of my organs, feeding me, repairing me. I turn away from the mirror, too afraid to gaze upon my reflection in it, and go instead to the kitchen, where I press an ice-pack to my temple. I close my eyes to its cooling bliss, feeling that iciness melt over me. My heart is restored to its calm, my mind sinking into peace.
A strange relationship, you and I have. How long have you done this to me? So embittered in your rage, you forget the time that goes by. Yet I know all of it - I have counted the days of our bond. No one else would understand why I have put up with this for so many years, why after each time you tear me apart, I forgive you, over and over . . . I am your dartboard and your solace. I am your ecstasy and escape. If you could love, then I would be the one to fill up that space in your stone cold heart, heavily weighting you down so that always, you must be with me. You used to sneak into my bed at nights, when we slept those long times inside the Slytherin dormitory. Your body crawled over mine through the darkness, a shadowed angel that promised me bliss as well as pain. Your hands would fumble over me, pinching, scratching, punching . . . You tainted my beauty with your forceful colours. Then you would take me, sweating and gasping, torn between love and hate, until I cried out your name and you swallowed my mouth with your tongue, stifling me always to silence.
I curl up on the living room sofa, my body cat-like and shielded in its sleep. I hug my knees to my chest, scrunching my eyes shut and sinking into black sleep, my body exhausted and used. Your touch stains me with fatigue. Dreamless sleep drowns me in darkness, yet the nibbling edge of light constantly pressures that soon, soon, you will return.
A noise in the hallway. I flinch and my body jerks awake. There you are, a shattered angel of emptiness, watching me through stunning eyes.
You can't stand noise. I make not a sound as you come towards me, studying me expectantly. I do not try to fight back as your fist comes crashing into my face - I hold my tongue silent as your kisses crash down upon me once again, as your touches grow more vicious, as I'm pushed back to your will, a pleasure figurine for you to puncture holes in.
As the tension rises once more, I kiss you firmly, my broken lips battling yours. You make no sound, and my tears are silent. Their pale laces track my cheeks, but they go unnoticed by you, so impassioned in your ferocity.
How many more months must this continue before I too, become like you? How many more bruises until my mind recoils, hidden somewhere I cannot find? When will I feel nothing, so that I become a constant danger to myself and all around me? Will you keep me then? Will you continue these late night antics, or will you eventually give in to your fate and end all this life about you? Will it be too late to save me? Will you drag me down with you, as you always do?
Your sweet taste lingers against mine, your hands wrapping tightly about my lower back, grating my hips to yours. I lower my eyes, the beads of blood dripping like crimson tears from my lengthened eyelashes. Best friends, that's what we used to be. How did I ever let it get to this?
"Draco," I urge to protest, one final last time, to convince him that this is not what I want. He bites down on my tongue to silence me, so that I shall always scream eternally inside. His body crushes mine as he once again wrestles my clothes away, his nails ripping at my body, his teeth feeding on my neck.
He's eaten me, consumed me down to the bone. The Blaise that once was shall be no more. I will become an empty encasement, a man deprived of a soul, tangled about the trap of the snake. He has bitten his poison into me, and I am forever his.
The strange thing is that I love him for it.