“Harry.”
Drao’seyesaresad,andHarrydidn’twantthat,thatwastheexatoppositeofwhathewanted.“Imean,”Heforesaugh.“Whatkindofpretentiousassholebuildsahouselikethisandthinks,yes,I’mgoingtoneedtoholdsomeprisonersaptiveforabit,betterbuildanoldfashioneddungeon?”
“Itwasaveryoldhouse.”Apparentlytheywerepyingtheirgameofpretendingthateverythingwasfine.“Maybethatwasthefashionbakthen.”
“Thefashion?”
“Yeah,youknow,like…”Hewasastingaroundforwords,foranydistration.“Likethepointlessnessofyourunle’sfakefirepe?Likethatkindofthing.”
Harrysnorted,andmaybethereminderofhisunleandthememoriesinthisroomanelledeahotherout,beausesuddenlyhefeltbetter.Twoivesmakingapositive.
“It’sugly,whateveritwas.”HereahesoutahandtoDraoandisrelievedwhenhetookit.“Let’sgetoutofhere.”
Drao
Maybehehadn’tthoughtthisthrough.
Itwouldhavebeenonethingtoomehereonhisown,putthingsbakinorder,trytogetitreadytobehabitableagain.ItwasquiteanothertobringHarryhere,Harrywhohadalmostdiedhere,whowasheldaptiveandlistenedtohisbestfriendbetortured,whoesapedwithseondstospare,whihDraopaidthepriefor.TherewasenoughbadmemorieswithoutmakingHarrywanttopunhhimwitheveryturnofthehouse.
“Youneedtogoanywhereelse?”Harryappearedathisshoulderlikehewaspoppingoutofthinair,hisvoiesoloudDraohalfexpetedthedusttofallfromtheeiling.Nothinghappens,exeptsomeratssurryawayfromthem,andDraofeelssik.
“No.”Hehearshimselfsayitbutdoesn’trememberdeidingto.Therinhisearswastooloud.“Ijustneedsomeair.”
Hepushesawayfromhimandoutwhatusedtobeawindowbutisnowjustarumblingholeinthewall.Hetripsoverahunkofmarblebutkeepsgoing,outintothedampgrassthathasgrownintotanglesuptohisknees,sinkingdownintotheground,tiltinghisheadbaktostareupatthesky.
“When’sitgoingtogetbetter?”He’snotsurewhohe’syellingat.DraoneverhadbelievedinGod,butyouhadtobmesomethingwhenyourlifehasthislevelofshitinit,andheseemslikeagoodapersonasany.“Huh?Whenareyouevergoingtoletmehavesomepeae?”
Hereahesoutbesidehimandfindsahunkofstone,andthenarystal,pieesofhishousethattheyhadblowntokingdomome,andit’sthefirsttimethatherealizesitwasnottheiriigationthatmadehishouselookthewayitdoes.Itwaspeople,peoplewhowerehurtingandangryandafraid,whostayedaftertheirshiftandbstedthispeapartpieebypieeandwatheditallraindownintoruins.
Itwasahouse,hethoughsavagely.Areallygoodhouse.Thehelldiditeverdotoyou?
Hewantstostayouthereforever,keepursingatthestars,maybeburnthewholethingdownandhimselfwithit.Burnthewholeworlddownjusttoprovethatheould.Buthedoesn’t,beauseHarryisstillthere,walkingarossthewnlikehehadn’tnotiedDrao’stantrumandsittingdownbesidehim,nevermindthatthegroundwassowetitwouldsoakthroughhisjeans.