A.N.: I've had this for a long time. It's been revised, with thanks to missy mee. I was inspired while listening to Evanescence's Good Enough. Read if you will; review if you want.
Hermione had been longing for Ron as far as she could remember. She watched him again from across the library table, taking in every detail of his freckled face and his messy red hair. She sighed inwardly at the thought of his name and imagined their lips pressing together in a passionate embrace. She would imagine what it would be like to have his hands running up and down her body, perhaps even against her bare skin, while she would explore every inch of the body she's been lusting for. She imagined he undid the buttons of her shirt, as she lifted his, and heard him moan her name as he kissed her neck needily...
"Hermione!" repeated Harry, for the third time. She snapped out of her reverie and blushed madly, realizing what she had been daydreaming about. "What's gotten into you lately? You seem so distracted." She blushed even more as she felt Ron's concerned eyes on her.
"It's nothing I can't handle," she stammered, avoiding Ron's eyes, not daring to hope he might, somehow, care for her the way she did for him. "I've been unable to sleep in the past few weeks. I think it's catching up to me." It was true. She had woken up every day before dawn for the past month, every time because she dreamt of Ron in ways unsuitable for best friends to think of each other. Every time she thought she was over him, he would apologize for something he thought he'd done wrong, or touch her arm lightly and she would cry silently to sleep at night, knowing there was nothing she could do. He was her every thought. Her happiest moments and her worst.
"I'm going to head back to the Gryffindor tower and maybe take a short nap before continuing on my Potions essay." She pretended to stifle a yawn, because deep down she knew there would be no sleep for her tonight. She rapidly gathered her things. This is the ultimate test, she thought inwardly. If he follows, if he offers to follow... But he said nothing. She turned, defeated, but her foot caught onto her chair's leg and she fell. Ron hastened out of his seat to help her up. "I'm alright, Ron, honestly I can take care of myself!" You're pushing him away! You need to tell him, Hermione, or he'll disappear. Or worse, he'll snog Lavender again. "Thanks anyway," she added sheepishly. Ron seemed to notice something was different. He smiled shyly at her."Let me walk you back, in case you stumble and fall again," he joked. Harry looked at Ron, then at Hermione, then back at Ron, then again at Hermione. Then his gaze fell back onto his book, trying to hide a grin, because he knew exactly what was going on. He didn't dare try to follow when his two best friends didn't bother to say good-bye.
Hermione's heart was racing. He'd followed her. She had to say something. "How was Quidditch practice today?" she asked, knowing he would love to tackle a subject like Quidditch.
"It was okay, I guess," he replied distantly. They both fell silent again. She decided to speak up again.
"Only that?" she pressed on. "'Okay, I guess'?"
"What?" replied Ron loudly. "Do you want a play-by-play? You don't even like Quidditch Hermione, so why do you care?" Hurt, she felt tears threaten to fall. She decided it was now or never.
"I want to show you something," she said quietly. She brought him to the seventh floor and wished as hard as she could for a place where she could tell Ron everything. A place where they wouldn't be interrupted if he cared for her. A place I could push him out of to cry if he didn't. A small wooden door appeared after the third time she walked by it. "After you," she gestured. Please, oh please let him care for me, she prayed, not knowing to who.The room was filled with plush pillows of all shapes and sizes and it was lit, to Hermione's horror, romantically by candles. Ron turned to look at her, confused. She blushed madly, mumbling that she had no idea why it was so dark. When she lifted her wand to light the room, Ron grabbed her wand hand and brought it down. He took a step towards her and she took a sharp breath in. "It's fine like this," he whispered, looking down at his feet, his ears having turned a deep shade of red. She watched him hesitate as to what to do next. He hadn't let go of her hand. Dropping her wand, she entwined her fingers with his. She avoided his gaze when he looked up. With his free hand, he lifted her chin. "Hermione, I-" But his words were cut off when she reached up to put her lips softly on his. He didn't pull away. She almost cried out in her happiness.
Unable to control herself, she pressed herself against him, trying to get as close to his body as possible as his lips pushed harder against hers. She felt his hands rub her back and she brought her hands to his shoulders, gripping on as hard as she could, not wanting to let him go. He broke the kiss first, gasping for air. But she didn't stop. She kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin and, not hesitating for a second, his neck. She couldn't get enough. She could feel him shudder slightly under her touch, but it only made her want more. He lifted her easily and as she wrapped her legs around his waist, he lowered her onto an arrangement of pillows. It was his turn to explore her face and neck. She panted as quietly as possible, but she could hardly control herself.
As he kissed her neck, she searched for an opening to his shirt. Finding one, she quickly slipped both her hands inside and felt her hands melt at the heat radiating from his skin. He pressed his lips on hers passionately, hungrily. She returned it with just as much passion and hunger. She opened her mouth, hoping he'd get the hint. He did. His tongue passed over her lips before entering, twisting about with her own wild tongue, dancing feverishly.
His trembling hands were under her blouse, but it was so annoying to be covered. She wanted to feel his bare chest against hers. She broke the kiss to pull off his shirt, happy they were wearing Muggle clothing rather than the uniforms. It would have been harder to get that off, she grinned to herself. She felt him playing with her buttons while she ruffled his hair and he kissed her bare skin, any part he could find. Their breaths were coming short. Impatient, Hermione pulled his hands off to take her blouse off herself. He played with her bushy hair, he stroked her thighs and resumed their previous tongue dancing while she desperately undid her buttons. She panted victoriously when she undid all of them. Ron proceeded to take it off for her. She tightened her legs' grip around his waist, not ready to let go anytime soon. All that was important was to satisfy their need for each other, as animalistic as it was. She messed with his hair again and brought his head closer to her chest. He kissed the skin between her breasts, tracing a line to her belly button and played with her belt. They groped at each other fiercely. She felt his clothed erection push against her needily. She was fuelled by its movements. She went to undo his jeans' button as he traced the outline of her bra with his fingers.
Love! She loved Ron! Did he love her, or was he just looking for some fun? She snapped out of her daze, just as Ron did.
"Hermione," he moaned. "As much as I don't want you to stop... we should. I'm - uh- not exactly ready..." He looked at her, hoping she'd get the hint. She did, and smiled.
She didn't want to stop. But she knew she had to before she did something she was sure she would regret. Rolling off of her, he lied next to her, looking happily at the ceiling. He lightly kissed her cheek as she stroked his arms gently. They didn't get dressed right away. She turned and placed herself half on top of him, her right leg between his. Hesitatingly, she placed her right hand on his still bare chest. When she did, he looked at her and, smiling, he took her hand and entwined their fingers. She kissed him lightly on the lips, that question of love still burning in her mind.
"Hermione, I- oh, bugger... what I mean to say is..." he stuttered. She lifted her head to look at his face. His ears were burning red, but he locked his eyes with hers. "I- well, I- I love you," he whispered in her hair, as if reading her mind.
She beamed at him lazily. "Ron, I love you too. I always have and always will," she replied just as quietly, resting her head on his chest.
Hermione didn't need to tell him. He knew that she knew, that for once in her life, she felt good enough.