Severus thought he had steeled himself for what it meant to fall.
But falling was not a choice, not really. It was an inevitability. Once Lucius had pressed his lips to his, once those pale eyes had pinned him with the weight of recognition, Severus had been lost. Every breath since was tethered to Lucius's presence, every thought bending toward the same inexorable center.
It was no longer enough to hear his name on Lucius's tongue. He needed to be summoned, needed to feel the heat of that touch, the command disguised as affection.
And Lucius gave it sparingly, precisely measured, so that each taste felt like salvation.
The lessons grew sharper.
"No slouching," Lucius murmured one evening, pacing behind him. "Stand as though the world already belongs to you."
Severus straightened, shoulders rigid.
"Good," Lucius said. His hand trailed down Severus's spine, light but searing. "Confidence is a blade. Wield it, and others bleed before they realize they've been cut."
Severus shivered. "And if they see through it?"
Lucius leaned close, lips ghosting his ear. "Then you sharpen it until there's nothing left to see through."
Severus closed his eyes, breath unsteady. He would have endured any lesson, any cruelty, for words like that.
But the change did not go unnoticed.
Lillian cornered him outside the library, face pale with worry.
"Sev… you've stopped sitting with me," Lillian whispered. "You hardly speak to me at all."
"I'm busy," Severus muttered.
"With Malfoy," Lillian pressed. His voice trembled, but his eyes burned with quiet desperation. "He's not what you think. He's dangerous."
Severus stiffened. "So you think I can't decide for myself? That I'm too weak to know what's good for me?"
"That's not—" Lillian's voice cracked. "I just don't want to lose you."
For a heartbeat, Severus faltered. His chest ached at the raw honesty in those words. But Lucius's voice rose in memory—Craving sharpens desire. Desire sharpens obedience.
He shoved the ache away. "Then stop trying to save me, Lillian. I don't need it."
The hurt in Lillian's eyes was unbearable. Severus turned before it could unravel him.
Narcis was less gentle.
"You're pathetic," he said one evening, blocking Severus's path. His smirk was cold, but his gaze too sharp to be mere cruelty. "Running to him like a dog every time he crooks his finger."
"Shut up," Severus hissed.
"You think this makes you stronger?" Narcis pressed in close, pheromones curling. "It makes you his toy. He'll use you until he's bored, and then he'll toss you aside."
"You don't know him," Severus spat.
"I know him better than you ever will," Narcis shot back. For the first time, the mockery dropped from his voice, replaced with something like… bitterness. "Ask yourself why he chose you. Do you really think it was because of who you are? Or because you're desperate enough to give him everything for scraps of attention?"
The words cut deep. Too deep.
Severus shoved him away, fury hot in his throat. "You don't understand. None of you do."
And he fled, heart hammering, not because Narcis was wrong——but because he was too close to being right.
That night, Severus went to Lucius again. He couldn't stay away. Not with Narcis's sneer still ringing in his ears, not with Lillian's pained voice echoing in his chest.
Lucius welcomed him as though nothing else mattered.
"You're shaking," Lucius murmured, cupping his chin, forcing Severus to meet his gaze.
"They mock me," Severus whispered. "They think I'm weak. Even the ones who pretend to care."
"And what do I think?" Lucius asked, tone silk and steel.
Severus's breath stuttered. "You… you see me."
Lucius's smile was soft, dangerous. "Exactly."
The kiss was inevitable. This time there was no hesitation, no restraint—only hunger, raw and consuming. Severus pressed into it as though drowning, clinging to the only thing that made him feel whole.
When Lucius finally pulled back, Severus's lips were swollen, his body trembling.
"Chains aren't always shackles, Severus," Lucius whispered, thumb stroking his jaw. "Sometimes they are the only thing that hold you together."
And Severus, broken open and desperate, believed him.