Author's Note: I wrote this for one of my best friends. I was supposed to find a Dramione fic that she hadn't read yet but I ended up saying screw it and wrote one myself within 45 minutes using a writing prompt.

Write a short story using four L words: lipstick, lust, loss, locked.

Technically I used all four, so I think I'm good. Also, fun fact - I was going to use a coffee shop as the setting but then I remembered that my friend is British herself and heavily dislikes coffee :P

With an angry yet resigned sigh, Hermione Granger checked her watch for the umpteenth time of the night from where she sat on a park bench. She picked up a small styrofoam cup of tea, ignoring the lipstick on it – she'd taken most of it off on a napkin but it'd still left marks on her cup – and took a sip before standing up. Gathering her purse and sweater as well, she smoothed down her dress and started walking towards the street to catch a cab.

"Gra–Hermione?" a voice called out from behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"Draco?" Hermione started and turned to see a familiar blonde man strolling down the street. "Ah, I was just . . . sitting in the park," she said lamely.

"That doesn't answer my question," Draco Malfoy countered, a cup of tea of his own in hand. "I was grabbing a cuppa from across the street and I saw you all down in the dumps, looking at your watch constantly. Something the matter?"

Hermione frowned. While she didn't have any problem with him anymore – they'd both matured from their school days and struck up a sort-of friendship – it was odd to hear something close to concern coming from him. Still, she was mad at Ronald and it wasn't any secret so it didn't hurt to tell him.

"I've been waiting her for almost two hours for Ronald," she explained. "We were supposed to have met for dinner tonight but . . . I've just been sitting here by myself." And warding off any lustful degenerates that tried to hit on her, she added silently.

"Is that so?" Draco said, almost offhandedly, though there was a hint of scorn in his tone of voice. "Well, it's his loss, missing out on a date with a beautiful woman such as yourself."

A small blush found itself upon her cheeks, and she was suddenly thankful it was dark out. Even so, she turned her head to hide it from the blonde. At the very least, it served to distract her from her anger at the Weasley. It wasn't often that she was complimented so honestly. Usually it was the standard 'you're pretty' or 'you look hot', but no one had ever called her beautiful in recent memory. (Her parents didn't count, and Harry didn't either in the sense that he was her brother in all but blood.)

"Well," Draco continued on, oblivious to her change in mood, "if you're on your way home, would you like some company?"

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Draco Malfoy clearing out his schedule for little ol' me?" she teased.

He scoffed and looked away. "Well, I figured I'd go out of my way to help a friend but if this is the thanks I get–"

She giggled. "Don't be such a prat, I was joking," she said, lightly slapping his arm.

Draco had a mock-affronted look on his face to which she replied by sticking her tongue out. "How pedestrian of you," he bemoaned, clearly trying not to roll his eyes. "At any rate, my car is parked around the corner. Mind giving me directions to your house?"

"Yeah, that'd be no problem."

Hermione smiled as Draco unlocked the doors when they reached his car and they both stepped inside. The night didn't turn out so bad after all.