jay | exy #03 🔸

JB, who was Jude’s first friend. JB, who carried Jude to the college hospital when he witnessed him having an episode in their dorm.

JB, who shouted and made a scene in that same hospital until a doctor finally saw Jude - and that doctor was Andy, the only physician Jude ever allowed to care for him for the rest of life.

JB, who helped Jude move into the apartment he shared with Willem on Lispenard St. JB, who brought along his friend Richard to help that day. Richard, who later sold Jude his beautiful apartment on Green Street that Jude loved so much. Richard, who secretly looked after him more than Jude ever imagined, who at one point saved his life, and at another point reminded him his birthday was worth celebrating, when Jude himself had forgotten and his world was bleak.

JB, who envied his life, his looks, his career, his relationship (even his limp!). JB, who saw him as competition, rather than someone to pity. JB, who thought he was beautiful, who thought killing something small and adorable was worth it if it meant looking like Jude.

JB, who brought him to parties, who showered him with laughter and provocations.

JB, who asked too many questions and wanted all the answers but got none of them. JB, who then asked Harold to back off from asking all the questions and wanting all the answers as well.

JB, who captured his life in galleries, on canvas, on film. The good and the bad.

JB, who’s art invaded and celebrated and decorated. JB, who’s art froze Willem in time for him.

JB, who was Jude’s last friend. JB, who Jude resented, who Jude hated, who Jude never forgave, who Jude wanted dead.

JB, who found him at last, who put away his suits, who handed out his letters.

I just love when minhkhoa stands behind or in front of bruce like he's his bodyguard or some shit...like go girl protect your wife or whatever

“Mr. Potter, that gesture may be sweet and touching but please remember you two are in class and not in your own world. I do not tolerate sleeping in class so please wake Mr. Malfoy up. I’ll see the both of you in my office after class.” - Professor McGonagall

"These fields," he repeats, slowly reaching out and brushing a hand over the tall canola flowers. Still green and young, they haven't yet reached the brightness of Cornwall's canola fields. Harry stares intensely across the field, his eyes narrowed with focus. As though, if he looks hard enough, he might see the ghost of a young Draco racing between the canola plants.

Harry grins and takes a step forward.

"Where are you going?" Draco asks, sounding slightly startled.

"Away from you," Harry says, and takes off.

It's one thing he and Draco have in common: a lonely childhood. The only time Harry ever got close to playing games like tag was when he found himself running for his life as a jeering Dudley waddled after him, or Aunt Marge's bulldogs snapped at his heels. It's a very different experience to be racing through a field, the night sky clear and crisp above him, listening to the sound of light footsteps behind him. Draco's voice cuts across the field.

"You're insane, Potter! Are you seriously playing games — "

"We're playing games, you mean," he calls over his shoulder. "You're chasing me, after all."

"I am not chasing you! Get back here!"

"Make me!" Harry laughs and picks up speed; behind him, the footsteps quicken. Harry takes a sharp left, feeling the thin stalks of the canola plants feather through his fingers. He zig-zags his way across the field, running faster and faster until all he can hear is the blood thumping in his ears, the effort of breathing in his throat, and then he pauses. He can't hear footsteps behind him anymore.

Harry turns around. The field seems empty, the canola plants swaying gently in the night air. He frowns, his brow creasing, and drops his hands to his side, his fingers slowly uncurling. The silent night gives nothing away; not the slightest footstep nor the faintest draw of breath. Harry takes a step backwards.

Someone grabs him; he shouts out and nearly jumps out of his skin. Behind him, Draco starts laughing, his arms still around Harry.

"You shrieked," Draco manages between fits of laughter, his voice unnervingly close to Harry's ear. Harry reddens.

"I did not! I — I shouted, that's all. You startled me," he adds accusingly.

"You shrieked, admit it. For a moment, I thought I'd grabbed Astoria."

"Oh, very funny! Hey — where are you going?" Harry asks as Draco drops his arms and turns, poised to flee.

"Catch me." And Draco's bolting away, quick as a fox, racing through the field again.

Harry starts running.

——

Illustration based on this specific scene from running on air by @tinyhistory (eleventy7)

This is part 1 of the illustration I drew for an edit

The edit :

“Where are you?”

“We could go anywhere”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere”

“Let’s go where you are, where are you? If this is real, tell me!”

“Do you remember when we were eleven?”

“Let’s go back to that”

“Do you think..”

“We could’ve ever been friends?”