#save these boys
Oh god someone please help me. I can’t stop thinking about Harry and Draco.
They were kids in a war.
They were kidsonopposite sides of a w a r.
Don’t tell me their love was soft. Don’t tell me their love was pure.
Their love corrupted everything they knew, leaving them hollow and disoriented. It took every idea of the morality they were fighting for and crushed it - leaving dust in its wake. The dust blurred their vision and filled their lungs and made them scream in horror and unimaginable pain until they were gasping for a breath that would never come.
How can you tell me their love is what saved them? There is blood on their chests and hands and necks. No one knows whose it is (is it their own?). Their eyes reflect images of death, as if it’s projecting out of them instead. Their cheeks are mixed with tears and ash.
Anytime they meet, it’s a battle of sides. It’s grappling, biting, tearing, pinching, holding. Holding on for the last particle of hope as they tumble down,
Down,
Down.
Their love was not soft, their love was not pure. But god damn everything - it was love.
It was all they had.
