#nizarus

“Humiliation,” Nizar agrees. “The one thing Tom Riddle hated as a student. Humiliation was the only thing that would crack that benevolent mask of his. Even a hint of it could send Riddle into a rage.” His expression turns wrathful, something Severus rarely sees. “I didn’t want to kill him anymore for threatening you. I want him to break. I want him to fucking suffer.” Severus allows the amusement he feels to be audible in his voice. “Your declaration is a Slytherin’s dream come true, but it would never pass muster as an ode to love.” Nizar’s ire doesn’t dissipate. “I’m not the sort for poetry unless I’m quoting someone else. Severus, if Heliotrope had succeeded, she would have replaced Drugo in that fucking barrow.” Severus leans back in surprise. “I’m not worth that.” “Don’t,” Nizar hisses. He slides his fingers into Severus’s hair, tangling his fingers and gripping almost to the point of pain. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself! Not to a mirror, not to me, not to anyone! You’re worth everything. I can’t lose—I truly think it would break me to lose you. I’m not capable of that sort of recovery anymore. I can’t lose you. I can’t—” “Dammit.” Too late, Severus realizes Nizar is having a much-delayed panic attack. He wraps his arms around Nizar and holds him close, though Nizar is shaking so hard his teeth are chattering. “I’m here. I promise. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you, I swear.”