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(n.) the inability to express
your feelings

FAIR AND WELL AT THIS POINT, DRACO HAD BECOME TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN. On one end was a bright, burning sun, the side that he presented during the day, that brazing confidence he carried throughout the school, that chin of his jutted just so.  And then there was a moon on the other, that was the side he had found himself showing Louis the other night—a certain kind of softness that he didn't show to many people, revealing to Louis a bit of that cracked marble hull of his, that newfound vulnerability that was beginning to blossom. There was a line separating the two of them. It wasn't very thin, however, there were not too many chances that the two were to ever come together and cause a collision.

The more and more that vulnerability began to bleed through and expose itself, the more and more the adolescent Icarus's wax wings began to melt, the teenaged god was closer to becoming a mortal, and the prince was nearing being knocked off his high horse. There was no turning back now as Draco was slowly being pulled apart at the seams, that war that was waging on in his head causing more of a ruckus and getting bloodier by the minute. After he had been thrown into that chasm that was brimming with an abundance of prodding inquiries, haunting him in his wake and in sleep, he was challenged to call into question everything he's ever known since his conception about who he is as a person. All the information he had been fed and taken willingly was now being picked apart by a boy with eyes that were azure and oceans deep.

Draco had lain awake that night, mulling over what had happened between the two of them atop the Astronomy Tower. He had no idea what had come out of his mouth the other night, going on about how there were too many stars in the sky that he couldn't possibly trust them all, gods willing, and how only trusting Louis would be worse of a choice because there was only one of him, whatever that could've possibly meant. Some part of that proclamation had must've reigned true because that may have been the calmest Draco's ever felt since he had stepped foot into Hogwarts this year and that scared him, the feeling of wanting to crawl out of his skin making a subtle return at the realization of it.

He had thought about how close in proximity he and Louis had been up there, always a foot within the other's space, however, that was mainly due to Louis always invading it. Draco could see a freckle or two decorating the bridge of Louis's nose, that was how close they had been. His chest had constricted the same way it had always done, that serpent wrapping around his ribcage. He had wanted to run, to flee back to the dungeons and hide away and never come back out but he couldn't, not after how Louis grabbed him like that, a gentle wrapping of his fingers around his elbow, squeezing just the tiniest bit. You're okay. Sometimes he could still feel it, the ghost of Louis's touch still lingering.

Four nights passed and Louis was up in the Astronomy Tower once more, however, this time, he had homework to finish. His telescope was out, pointing out the constellation that ruled over October to kick off the beginning of the month. He was in the middle of writing down the names and locations of the stars in the constellation when he heard the door to the tower open. Looking up, he saw Draco standing in the doorway, still just as awkward as he had been a week ago.

"Hi," Louis greeted him, still needing to get over being so taken aback whenever Draco showed up. He had offered to lend a hand to the juvenile deity so he shouldn't continue to be so surprised whenever Draco reached for it. "How'd you get past lady Norris?" he asked, going back to his homework and turning to take a peek into his telescope.

"You call that thing a lady?" Louis could hear the incredulity tangling within Draco's question without even needing to turn around.

"She's a nice cat, Draco. She keeps me company sometimes when Filch isn't around." Louis smiled, still looking into his telescope and jotting down notes. "Is it all right if I ask you something?" He turned around to face Draco, who was still standing near the door, just as he had done the first time they talked. He walked over to Draco with caution, reaching out the same gentle hand and wrapping it around Draco's elbow, the same way he had done the first time a week ago.

"What are you doing?" Draco's voice went up an octave as he yanked his arm back as though Louis's hand were on fire and he had burned him. He knew the effect it had left on him and it had taken him a week to shake the feeling.

Louis then backed away instantly, raising his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to show you that you were okay, that you were safe here. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Draco took in a breath to even out his breathing after realizing that his heart rate had sped up a bit at the contact. "What'd you want to ask me?"

Louis nodded, fiddling with his quill. "I, uh, I was just wondering what you meant by how it would be worse to trust me because of there only being one of me?"

"I had no idea what I was on about. I really don't know what I meant by that."

"Oh. Alexithymia, then."

"What?"

"Alexithymia," Louis repeated, "is another one of those weird words I like so much. It means 'the inability to express your feelings'."

Draco really wasn't able to keep up with this boy, standing there in his pajama pants and a knitted sweater, with his copper curls more a mess than usual, looking like a phoenix's feathers than strands of hair, the moonlight bouncing off of his head and creating that halo effect Draco had seen that very first night during dinner. It felt almost strange to see him in anything other than his uniform, he looked more at home, more comfortable. More like himself. It was. . .nice, to an extent.

Louis walked over to the center of the tower and lay down, tilting his head back to see more of the stars than just that one constellation he had been bent over for the last hour and a half. He then looked over to see Draco still standing by the door as though he was frozen to his spot.

"Come lie down." Louis patted the ground next to him before intertwining his hands together and resting them on his stomach, his breathing even, calm, grounding. Reluctantly, Draco moved over to lie down next to him, a little more room between the two of them this time.

"What exactly are you looking for when you're looking at stars?" asked Draco, still intimidated by the number of them twinkling and razing through the twilight.

"Sometimes constellations. Other times, they're just nice to look at. Like right now, for instance. Found myself doing this a lot after my father left. Picked up a lot of other habits, as well. To cope."

"Why'd he leave?"

Louis let out a sigh. "My mother's a muggleborn witch. However, that wasn't really the reason why he left. Considering that they were both a witch and wizard, my father believed that there wasn't a need to raise me in a 'muggle-like environment'. My mother disagreed so he left for her to raise me all by herself and I turned out wonderful, all half-blood and the like. She taught me all these Muggle traditions she had when she was growing up."

Draco turned his head to look at Louis, who was wearing a solemn look on his face. "You seem to take great pride in your Muggle upbringing."

"That would be because there was nothing wrong with my being half-Muggle to begin with." Louis turned his head to have a look at Draco, who was still staring at him, possibly waiting for an answer. "My mum made me proud of who I am. She raised me that way to show me that there was nothing wrong with how she was brought up. Draco, I understand that you were raised to believe certain things about certain people. Truly, I do. All I'm saying is that it's now up to you to choose whether or not you want to continue believing them." Louis looked back up at the sky, however, he could still feel Draco's eyes on him.

When Louis looked over, he saw someone else entirely different than the one who paraded the halls with such confidence, granted that he was still stubborn and unmoving in some departments. Those were the kinds of undoings that would come with time and patience.

"My father's in prison," Draco huffed, "I reckon you heard about that. Nearly half the school must know by now."

"Yeah, I read it in the Prophet. For his crimes from being a Death Eater, right? Must be heartbreaking to have someone you love be a Death Eater. I don't know what I'd do if someone I was close with had it out for me. Especially for someone with a Muggleborn mother. She's all I've got and I love her to bits."

Draco's eyes widened at what left Louis's mouth but he didn't say anything in response. Before he could even have the slightest bit of a chance to think about what he was doing (he swore it had to do with the moon having a pull on his emotions or something, but never came to admit that it was the boy who was lying next to him having an unknowing effect over him. His own little moon), his hand was slowly reaching out and grasping Louis's elbow, wrapping around the crook before giving it a tap and moving away. Louis took in a sharp breath as his heart rate hitched at the movement, not expecting the action at all. He kept his head up at the sky, still feeling a pair of cloudy storm-grey eyes on him.

The two lay side by side in the twilight with nothing but the silence to speak for them, the winds speaking in an almost foreign language that wouldn't fall upon ears who weren't willing to listen to it. Louis reached out once more, slowly, carefully, and wrapped his hand around Draco's elbow, tapping the crook of it once with his index finger, the same way Draco had done, before slipping away quietly into that good night, once again not realizing what he had done and leaving a burning sensation in the pit of the adolescent Icarus's stomach, his wax wings melting just a little bit more.