"Theo is coming for lunch, after your massage therapist leaves," Blaise reminded him.
"I know, thank you," he said.
"Don't think your appointment will get you out of your exercises either, so eat up," Blaise said with a smirk.
Draco glared at him and gave a huff of annoyance, but he continued eating. Blaise enjoyed bossing him around way too much. It reminded Draco of when they were younger, egging each other on. Well, it was actually Blaise egging him on to mess with Potter... Harry. Hell, he was the one who convinced him that dressing up like a dementor would freak Harry out. It failed, and Blaise taunted him for months about it.
Draco honestly thought Blaise was trying to make him snap at him... like in the old days. They would always throw a few half-hearted punches and curses at each other. Blaise was trying to get him to attack or get angry, but anger was something else he had lost in Azkaban. He had fought back in the beginning... with words and fists, but Connors had broken him. Just like using his magic... he was conditioned not to fight back.
He then wondered if someone had told Blaise to egg him on. Would Harry tell him that? He doubted it. Harry hated being pushed around. Harry wouldn't... stop it! he told his head, and then pushed the food around on his plate, moping, until Blaise put his hand on his arm. Draco met his eyes but looked away, embarrassed.
"Get out of your thoughts, blondie. Eat your breakfast," he said, quietly.
Draco tried. He did try. Blaise didn't reach him like Harry could. Instead, he forced his food down and pushed his plate away.
"Ready for your exercises?"
Draco grimaced. He hated them even more that Harry wasn't around, but Blaise wouldn't let him strive off them for a day. His healers couldn't fix him like Harry could. Fucking Salazar... he couldn't stop comparing everything to Harry. He got up and shuffled on his walker to a room that Blaise had made for him. It was filled with physical therapy machines and an exercise/massage bed. He had spared no expense. Damn, he didn't deserve a friend like Blaise.
"Come on, sit down," Blaise said, following him in.
He sat on the bed and looked up at Blaise, his hands shaking from the emotions that were threatening to take over.
"Hey, you can do this, okay?"
Draco lowered his eyes. Drive through the pain, he told himself. He had to get through this, and he had suffered worse. "It hurts," he whispered.
"Inside or out?" Blaise asked, quietly.
That had been his way of asking whether it was emotional or physical pain. "Both."
Blaise nodded and took his hand, kneading it, gently. He wasn't skilled at massage, but it still helped ease the ache. His hands always hurt. They had been the first thing he lost... well after his freedom and innocence. Of course, it had been his father, who took those things first.
"Shh... focus on me. You're getting stuck in your head, again. Remember when we put itching powder in Theo's robes?"
Draco smirked and looked at Blaise. "Probably shouldn't mention that when he gets here."
Blaise continued to massage his hands. "Nah... those were good times... for Theo, too."
Draco huffed and groaned as Blaise massaged out a painful knot. "Thanks."
"What the hell were you doing yesterday? You just woke up... so you couldn't have messed them up this morning," he asked.
"Walking around... writing..." he mumbled.