Their glares pierced Draco’s soul, and their cheers deafened his heated ears. Suddenly a tight fist punched the remaining strength out of his body as he landed on the floor harshly. Tears forming on the edge of his eyes, ignoring the roars of his inner voice...
Knuckles turned white as his fist tightened. His inaudible whispers that kept fading in the booming cheers of the crowd slowly loudened up as the room silenced down.
His sweaty fist unclenched, but he immediately palmed his lips, muffling his painful screams. Eyes rolled towards the shadows covering the doorway. His shoulder heaved as he panted, eyes silently watched them disappear.
The palm got ripped apart from his lips as he let out his screams of fury and frustration. His heated tears evaporated in the still air. He kept screaming and thrashing around in pain.
Suddenly something buzzed, a bright light reflected in his bloodshot eyes. His screams stopped. Zooming in, he noticed his dad’s text -
“We need to talk. Come home fast.”
Eyes flung open. He gasped and immediately crawled towards his books, shoved them into his bag and was about to stand, when without any warning a sharp stabbing pain diverged from his stomach. His body landed on the floor again.
A low hiss buzzed in the silence as he could finally balance on his legs and dashed out from there.
With each step, the pounding of his heart sped brutally. Thoughts scattering in his head, each coming with a different reason for this sudden text.
What was he doing at home? At this hour? Why would he text him all of a sudden?
His steps halted when he was there, standing on the doorstep with rageful breaths and anxious head. The door opened with a creak. Legs trembled as he suddenly got wrapped in a veil of silence. He crept in and noticed his father sitting on the couch, in office attire, silently reading something. Eyes shifted to the thing in the man’s grip and within seconds, shiver crawled down his spine. Each flesh of his body started radiating heat, as he staggered to his feet.
His diary was in his father’s grip.
He was reading it. He was reading each of Draco’s unspoken feelings that got buried deep in that thing. He was reading it all.
Wasting not even a second, Draco strode towards the man and snatched the diary from his grasp, avoiding the sharp pair of eyes staring intently at him.
“How could you touch my personal stuff without my permission?” His voice shook seeing a glabella formed between his father’s eyebrows. Feeling threatened to meet the strong gaze of the man, he stomped towards his room and slammed the door shut.
Warm tears strolling down his eyes, but he wiped off each drop. His father’s words kept whirring in his head-
"Boys should always stay strong, son.”
" They should never show their weakness to the world.”
He could remember how his father used to hide his struggles from his family, and would always show him his “cheerful face”. And for Draco, it was “an act of bravery”.
Hours passed in silence...
His heart twitched. Eyes shot up and looked at the door blankly, he could not decide whether to open it or not. Then again,
Gulping dryly, he faltered towards the door. And a low creak echoed.
But there was no one. He peaked out only to realize his father was in the kitchen, his eyes fell on a book abandoned on the floor.
Ignoring the sharp stabbing pain, he picked it and walked towards his desk.
His eyes shot up - the writing was quite familiar.
It was his father’s.
Each page unfolded a new hidden secret of his father, which Draco had no idea about. Scrolling through each word, flipping through each page, his eyes blurred. He raised his finger to wipe the warm drops, when suddenly...
“Don’t wipe it,”
His blurry gaze shifted to the man who was leaning against the door jamb.
He started walking towards the boy, making him fiddle with his fingers. He lowered himself to the boy’s level and looked at him with soft, gentle eyes. Suddenly, the boy’s head clouded with broken visions.
He remembered the ten years old, shedding tears, fingers circling his bruised knee. His father lowered himself to the boy’s level and looked at him softly- “shh, son, don’t cry,”
“But it hurts.” The 10 years old hissed in pain.
“Brave kids don’t cry...”
“Draco,” He jerked back to reality, his heart clenched under those intent stares of the man.
“There is something you want to tell me, isn’t it?” His voice sounded as calm as the night wind.
The boy nodded slightly.
The man shifted his gaze from him and sighed, “Tell me when you feel like it, okay?” He caressed his son’s hair and turned towards the door.
The boy looked down, thoughts running wild in his head.
“And son,” He immediately looked up...
"Brave kids do cry...”
His eyes widened, thoughts tamed down. Eyes staring at his dad and watched his lips carved in a “cheerful” smile. The man earned the same expression from his son-
A "smiling" one...
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