he's obsessive in the way that should terrify you: memorizing your schedule to "accidentally" run into you, starting fights with anyone who looks at you too long, keeping a mental tally of every time you've hurt his feelings (he forgives you anyway, always). his hands shake when he's sober, steady only when he's high or touching you.

there's a self-destructive streak in him a mile wide—he'll ruin himself for you and call it a fair trade. the war broke something in him that can't be fixed, and now he's just counting down the days until azkaban or an overdose takes him.

(he's a storm wrapped in leather and lies, and you're the only one who ever saw through him.)