John Snape of HP

Snape held his wand and looked around coldly.

This bedroom has his memories of several years, and his traces are everywhere.

The wardrobe was half full of his clothes, and the two armchairs he had turned into a silver and green Slytherin look.The small table was full of stacks of parchment and thick books, all of his research over the past few years, as well as textbooks for John.

The bed was the double bed that John bought newly after he came, and there was also a small photo on the bedside table. John was wearing Snape's clothes and showed a cold expression to the camera.

The bedroom, which was originally decorated in warm colors, has been changed a little by the two of them in the past few years, and now it is mostly silver and green.

... There are traces of his life everywhere.

Snape flicked his wand and mended the buttons on his shirt.He swiped again, turning the photo into a black backpack.

He walked over and started stuffing his clothes and those thick parchments into the bag and packing.

—Since John can't stand it anymore, he'll be the one who ends up first.

Snape went to the study.His eyes were cold and his face was expressionless, as if his face had completely frozen together.

He stopped.

In the corridor not far away, John was curled up on the ground, trembling with his hands propped up.He was panting, and the broken hair on his forehead was wet with sweat.

When John heard the movement, he glanced this way in confusion, because his eyes were still covered with water mist because of the severe retching just now.

"Severus...? Where are you going?" the man asked with difficulty.

Snape's eyes became hollow, he held back those unbearable and dull sharp pains in his chest, ordered himself to maintain a cold expression, walked straight past John - without even looking at him, and finally entered the study .

"Severus...?" John's faint, puzzled voice came from outside the door.

Snape turned a deaf ear, letting the parchments and booklets on the desk fly into the knapsack as well.Empty the cauldron and start sorting out the potion ingredients.

John held the door and looked into the study suspiciously—his expression immediately became terrified.

"Wait—Severus, are you leaving?!"

John couldn't accept it at all, and he asked anxiously, "Why! What did I do wrong?"

"So you treated me so unusually today... because you want to leave? Why!"

Snape carefully packed the potion ingredients into the backpack in silence, with a serious and careful expression, as if he couldn't hear what John said at all.

John had a dazed, hurt look on his face.

——Snape can melt the hardest ice when he is willing to be gentle.But when he chooses to refuse, he will also produce the most cruel and hurtful thorns all over his body.

"Why don't you say a word? At least give me an explanation? Severus Snape!" John was angry.

——what should I say?

To say that John didn't realize that he had started to hate touching himself?

That was John's true feeling subconsciously, so what's the use of telling him himself?

Snape paused, glanced at John complicatedly, picked up his backpack, and turned around in circles——

"Fuck!" John cursed angrily, and threw his arms around Snape's waist, pushing him to stagger a few steps.

"Let go of your hand, Mr. Snape." Snape frowned, lowered his head and said to the person who was hugging him tightly.

"I won't let you go! Make it clear first! I—"

John could feel that Snape was serious this time, and he was terrified, his blood ran cold with fear.

He gritted his teeth and asked almost pleadingly, "Why can't you bear me? If you want to break up, let me know the reason?"

After he knew that Snape really didn't like someone, even if he changed it again, he wouldn't like him anymore.So he couldn't say that.

He could only ask the reason for the next best thing, waiting desperately for an answer.He wanted to know exactly—why all this suddenness.

Snape fell silent.

It is undoubtedly more painful for him to say it directly than for him to find out that John hates him.

But John was looking at him stubbornly, eyes full of heartbreak and pain.

That look made Snape feel that he was even more unwilling to face this moment of pain.

"You—" he squeezed the words out of his throat with difficulty,

"You look disgusted at seeing me, you retch because you kiss me. Don't you notice that, Mr. Snape."