━━━━  · 。ﾟ☆ .☽ .* ☆ﾟ. ━━━━

(adj.) darkened by clouds;
(v.) looking angry or sullen

WHEN IT CAME TO PRINCES IN LINE PREPARING THEMSELVES TO BE KINGS, THEY HAD THE TENDENCY TO FOLLOW IN THEIR FATHER'S FOOTSTEPS. Draco was the same way with his father, Lucius, currently leading in his stead while his father was wasting away in Azkaban for the time being.

He had grown to be a certain way, brought up to believe things about himself and others, how the world worked around him and in his favor, and how he would once be able to bend it at his volition. He took in the information willingly and with no remorse, being told that his blood status was the peak and anyone that had anything else flowing through their veins would perish as they were simply too weak to carry on the wizarding bloodline. He was also attuned to the belief that the people that walked the world hand in hand with someone the same as their own were simply not made to survive as they, too, would fall flat to the earth with nothing left to give it.

These were the ideas currently circulating and having a go at Draco's skull as he loosened his tie and paced the area of the Room of Requirement before staring down the Vanishing Cabinet. There are much more important things to worry about, he thought before repeating it, turning it into some sort of mantra in hopes it would get him to stop thinking about the boy in sapphire and cerulean blue, there are much more important things to worry about.

He shut whatever he was fighting with himself—not entirely sure as to why he was fighting about it in the first place—about down and shoved it into a mental box marked "DO NOT OPEN EVER" before going about his way, bringing his focus back and affixing it on repairing the cabinet.

However, the more time he spent in dead silence keeping his attention on the cabinet, the more time his mind had to attack him, flashing images of a certain boy, those eyes and that smile not bothering to look both ways before crossing his mind as they did most nights, haunting him while he barely slept and coming very close to surpassing his subconscious and sitting in the back of his present thoughts, attaching themselves to whatever they could to exist a little longer within his psyche, putting up a fight to keep themselves alive while Draco was awake as well as dreaming, even though they didn't have to do such a thing for the reason being that Draco was doing it all on his own, he just had a difficult time to see to it.

The beliefs he had been told and taught as a child then came into play, reminding him that thinking this way would leave the world with nothing to give when he was gone, no one to carry on the legacy, the mantle he had come close to destroying several times over for having these empty thoughts in the first place.

"Shut up," Draco mumbled, screwing his eyes tight before his voice rang octaves throughout the room, shattering the tense silence that had been building up, "shut up, shut UP!" He smacked his hand against the door of the cabinet, huffing out a breath to even out his slanted breathing. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a look around him and realizing that he was alone, no outer voice there to taunt him.

Louis realized something was wrong.

When his eyesight wandered over the Slytherin table, Draco looked like he had been brought back from the dead, as though he hadn't slept in weeks. His eyes were on the verge of being bloodshot and staining his face with tears. Draco's eyes then met his and Louis lifted his hand to greet him with a small wave, bashful that he had been caught. However, Draco was quick to look away and suddenly find his dinner fascinating, dipping his head and running his hand through his hair, which looked like it had already been dragged through a couple of times.

"Louring," Louis mumbled, taking note of the exhausted teenaged entity's appearance, his eyes still not leaving their spot on the boy. This was the worst he's looked, of all the times Louis's eyes had landed on him. It seemed that the stars had it out for him and for someone who stood on a pedestal set so high he could barely see the ground, Draco looked to be taking it quite hard. An elbow to his ribs splintered his concentration and he turned to the moon girl who sat next to him, trying to get his attention. "Sorry, Lune," he apologized, "what'd you want?"

"There's a Gryffindor girl that's been trying to pass this note to you," Luna explained airily before passing the aforementioned note to him, "looks like it's made its destination safely."

Reluctantly, Louis took the note from his friend and unfolded it, scanning the parchment that was lined with effervescent loops and squiggles, requesting to meet in the library after hours. He then looked up and scanned the Gryffindor table to find out who could have sent the note, smiling a little as he did so. A mousy brown brunette sent him a wink and smiled back before hearing the abrupt sound of someone getting up to leave. His ears and eyes and followed the sound to see Draco exiting the hall.

"Excuse me, Luna." Louis then got up and followed him out of the hall.

Draco felt as though he couldn't breathe.

His heart was lodged in his throat as he broke into a light sweat as he barged into the boys' bathroom, undoing his tie once more to get some air into his lungs. He didn't enjoy feeling this way, and he couldn't put a name to what was eating away at him before he was to become nothing but a bag of bones, this sticky sensation he couldn't get off his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed. It scared him, it scared him out of his mind and to his very core what he was feeling that was on the edge of defying everything he believed in, the information that had gotten stuck to his brain at a young age.

His head snapped up, realizing he was leaning over the sink when he heard the echo of footsteps entering the bathroom. In the mirror, he saw the reflection of who was to blame for sending him into this hell of a spiral, everything that he unwillingly dreamt of was embodied into one single boy who could have Draco begging for his life to be spared if he wanted to. He had that much of an effect on him and Draco didn't even know the boy's first name.

"Get out," Draco grumbled to the reflection of him, not wanting to turn around and having to face the boy that lingered between a dream and a nightmare.

"I'm sorry?" the boy questioned, "I was just coming in to see if you were okay. I noticed you from across the hall. You looked sort of out of it during dinner."

Nox, Draco remembered as the back of his Quidditch robes flashed through his mind, his eyes squinting shut at the action. His last name was Nox.

"I didn't ask to be checked on. And I certainly don't need to be checked on by you, of all people." Draco kept his line of sight on the mirror, clenching the sides of the sink until his knuckles turned a ghostly white, refusing to turn around.

"All right, then. I suppose you know where to find me if you ever want to talk. Be sure to ask for Louis when you do." With that, the boy retreated from the bathroom and Draco finally turned around to see him no longer standing there, albeit the ghost of his physicality still lingering.

Louis Nox. The boy to be blamed for the sudden rush and whirlwind of emotions that thrummed up within Draco's being, shifting everything this way and that, throwing him off his set path, taking a hammer and whacking at it, watching it crack and crumble while he had this sort of bewildered, innocent, deer-in-headlights look crossing his visage as though he had the audacity to have no idea how that hammer had gotten into his hand in the first place.

When Louis returned to the Great Hall, the mousy brunette Gryffindor sauntered up to him, her eyes glittering with mirth and bubbling with interest.

"I believe you got my note?" she questioned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, yeah. I did," Louis remembered, surprised he had already forgotten about it.

"So. . ." she trailed, eyebrows raised and waiting for a response.

"I- I don't think I'll be able to make it. Sorry." He awkwardly brushed past her so he could get back to his seat.

"Where'd you run off to?" asked Luna as she stole the dinner roll off of Louis's plate. Louis let her have it, having gotten used to her sticky fingers lingering around his plate when he'd left food on it for too long.

"Draco wasn't looking too good so I wanted to see if he was okay," Louis replied nonchalantly. "He had gotten up abruptly so I thought he was going to be sick. Turns out he didn't need to be checked on. Said he was fine."

"Well, did he look fine?" Luna reached for another thing before Louis finally conceding and sliding his plate over to her.

"He looked like he hadn't slept a wink. Wonder what's got him up so late." Louis absentmindedly looked over to where Draco usually sat, an odd feeling washing over him when he saw that his spot on the bench was still vacant. Although the two had never really interacted in all their years at Hogwarts, Louis felt their individual stars were meant to cross somehow, even if one burned brighter than the other.

Louis sat with his journal that night, penning away about gods losing their power and becoming mortals, forced to their life as one of the mundane. He thought about princes that radiated nothing but pride being knocked off of their high horses and adolescent Icaruses melting their wax wings and scorching their skin before making their trip to the sea below.

Then he wrote about a person meeting the newborn mortal, a common person greeting the son of royalty with the now-bruised ego, and someone pulling the scalded Icarus ashore before he drowned. The person bore no responsibility to help the god, the prince, or the myth, but instead, he was a guide, a hand outstretched, standing by and patiently waiting to see if they were willing to take it. He was there to let them know that they weren't alone even if he were alone, as well.

Sooner or later, the newborn mortal, the prince with the bruised ego, and the scorched Icarus had taken their hand. Whether or not he was going to let himself be pulled up or be the one to bring the guide down with him was entirely for the stars and the stars alone to decide. So, for now, the two stood hand in hand, lingering between what could later become a dream or a nightmare.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 .｡.:*

they've officially met in the most "them" way possible !
(louis being a helping hand and draco being a moody bitch)
any possibility that draco's gonna take louis up on his offer ?