Everything about Rodolphus's behavior is a trigger for Lucius in this moment. <i>Everything.</i> From the melodic tones he uses when he speaks which are entirely for Lucius's benefit, to the theatric way his movements intermingle with every bit of the older boys intentions. At one point it's skin on skin contact. Hushed words that invade his ears, almost a whisper and with breath hot enough to tickle the inside of his eardrum.

He torments Lucius. Throwing his own ill resolute back into his face with a furious disdain that Lucius had only ever seen projected on to others. Deep down inside of his gut he can feel the way the pain churns against his conscience, and everything inside of him screams for him to <i>stop this madness</i>.

But he can't.

He won't.

There's a point where Rodolphus's head rests against Lucius's, where the only things that ignite his senses are the feel of his coarse hair against his skin and the heady scent of him that ordinarily would bring Lucius comfort. It's just <i>more</i> pain. Gasoline onto the fire, punctuated by the venom that Rodolphus offers up with his words.

He thinks he knows. Rodolphus thinks he knows that Lucius is acting out. It becomes evident when Lucius takes a step back and his friend glares at him; <i>through him</i>, with that disgusting smile that tells him everything he needs to know about what goes on in the other boys mind. <b>You will not drown the truth in seas of blood</b>.

Lucius nearly stumbles back, expelling a huff of air and sucking another in just as fast. Still he offers no words. None in response to Rodolphus's affliction or otherwise- but instead he reaches into the innards of his suit jacket, and hastily grasps at the butt of a 13 1/2 spruce that sat idly in his breast pocket.

"There is no truth." His voice may be just a little too calm for comfort, but as he draws his wand and points it towards the sky, the muttered incantations would bring the world around them to life far better than his words would have been able.

From the ceiling and displays around them, various glass sculptures would detach from their holsters. Charms used to keep them in place shattered by the bit of magic that Lucius now cast upon them. Two of them.. <i>Three</i>.. They're large and made entirely of delicately spun glass- nearly see through and with opulances as beautiful as cultured pearl.

"<i>There is only perception</i>." As he vacated back towards the center of the room, the glass planets moved closer to Rodolphus, rotating on thair axes as they spin around in a ridiculously orchestrated demonstration.

What was it they said about driving too close to wildfire?

It was when he dropped the first planet at Rodolphus's feet that hot tears threatened to breach the lining of his eyes.

"You're not the neverending depths of the sea, Rodolphus." Lucius spits, an explosion of glass collapsing down around the eldest Lestrange brother. Shards of glass burst into every direction, richocheting like a heavy rain off of Black Lake. "You're not some enigma wrapped inside of fine italian wool. You're nothing. You're <b>nothing</b>."

What Lucius <i>wanted</i> to do was confess these feelings of himself. Wanted to tell his closest friend that if it weren't for the likes of him- Emma, Amycus and Alecto... Hell, Rabastan and Mulciber... Without them, he was nothing. <i>With</i> them he was nothing. Only a product of his upbringing. Barely his own person. A disaster formed at the hands of Abraxas Malfoy who would go forth into the world and <i>destroy</i> it.

Naturally, he turns all of his internalized loathing onto the person he cares about the most.

With a flick of his wrist, a second planet plunges to it's death-  just shy of the first, a similar detonation allowing bits of glass to tear through the air at optimal speeds.

"Merlin. <i>Damn</i> you." Lucius doesn't even realize how he's begun to completely break down, wand suddenly as heavy as a brick in his hand. "Why do you have to make this so hard."

For a split second he feels resentment towards Rodolphus. He's never been able to keep his composure quite as well as his friend. Never been able to flip that switch with such ease. Right now his knees feel week. The boys face flushes, suddenly hot with frustration as a streak of crimson washes over his nose. Lucius takes one final draw, winding his arm back like he were preparing to throw a pitch at a baseball game. One planet remained in his arsenal. <i>Earth</i>.

Lucius always was one for the dramatics.

He releases a burst of excess energy, his lungs emptying into the void as a scream ripped through the air along side the Earth as it sailed forward in Rodolphus's direction. There are no breaks. There's no veering off at the last minute.

It's destination was Rodolphus's fucking head, and Lucius had dropped his wand long before he could consider taking it back.

A last minute gasp of air populates his lungs, the sound of his wand hitting the floor drowned out by the high pitched scream of his senses finally coming to him. Before his hit can land, Lucius has turned on the bed of his heel and started off in the opposite direction.

Before Rodolphus would have a chance to dodge and weave from his final attack. Before he could be stopped. Before his <i>friend</i> could tackle him to the ground and mash his face into ribbons.

He's got to get out. He needs to escape. The boy wants nothing more than solidarity now that he's managed to destroy one of the only things that could <i>ever</i> possibly destroy <i>him</i>.

And when he finally finds it, alone and contemplating the purpose of life itself, he loses it.

He <i>loses</i> it.

Reduced to a pile of mixed emotions and perpetually unresolved fears, Lucius Malfoy finally crumples beneath the weight of the world.