A/N: this is a lil' Hermione/Draco oneshot I wrote. This isn't major smut but it's quite suggestive, nothing major to worry about.
Soft kisses on her collarbones, purpling bruises on her décolletage from his sinful mouth.
His fingerprints on her creamy thighs.
Fading.
The feeling in her belly from laughing too hard.
The heat spreading through her heart.
Genuine happiness.
Fading.
His pupils blown, cheeks flushed.
Fading.
"I can't love you."
Gone.
Broken cries, caught in her throat.
Hot tears, anger burning through her stomach like it would eat her alive.
Screaming until she was hoarse, and then a little more.
Returning to the flat they'd shared for so long.
Retching in the nearest wastepaper bin.
Finding the last remnants of her life with him.
His soap still in the rusting tray of the bath tub.
Holding it up to her nose, temporary relief.
For a small while, even just for a moment he was still here.
Lying in the tub for hours, cradling the final reminders.
No more crying.
Teetering on the edge of nothingness, and infinite abyss beyond the cliff of feeling.
The next time she saw him the marks had yellowed.
She felt her throat constrict around her heart.
Too soon.
She went home and didn't move for three days.
This was emptiness like she'd never felt before.
She was empty where he should have been and she was left clenching on nothing.
The next time she saw him it got a little easier. The marks he'd left imprinted on her brain had faded a little.
She still flinched when his name was mentioned.
It wasn't until six months later when she could bear to be in the same room as him.
The suspense is terrible.
She hopes it will last.