Draco rolled over gently, enough so that he was laying on his side, arms curled up under his head.
His back was to me. I moved, just enough so that I could look down at him. My left hand went under my head, keeping it up.
My right continued to gently caress his features from behind. He was gorgeous. Gentle angles, smooth skin. Pale, yes, but fair. His hair kept falling into his face, and I repeatedly pushed it back. He was so perfect.
My finger once again roamed his face, rubbing his strong, angled jaw repeatedly.
He shifted slightly and I withdrew. Draco didn't need to wake just yet. His face was serene in the dark light. The candles he had lit meer hours ago were burning low. It was just enough to see the lightness of his hair, and the sweetness of his face.
Awake, Draco held onto his Malfoy demeanor. Strong, independant. Alone. Asleep, he was quiet, vulnerable and purely himself. Purely Draco.
I leaned down to kiss the side of his head, gently smoothing the hair there.
My free hand traveled down to his firm biceps, running my fingers across his sculpted muscles.
I brushed my hair out of the way. We were different in so many ways. My golden complexion, his pale one. My dark, curly hair, and his platinum blonde locks. Green and silver, red and gold. Opposites.
And yet, our differences kept us together. We both were reaching into the land of unknown, taking a risk. Taking a chance. Experienceing feelings neither of us had ever encountered.
For me, it was passion. That never ending fire that built up inside us both. The longing. Being deathly afraid that what you need, crave the most would leave you. He radiated it and I soaked it up like a flower in the sun.
Draco, I suppose it was the love. The tender hearted, sweet care of another person, specifically for him. Something he had never experienced before me.
He was a beautiful person, past the hate and prejudice. One full of wit and humor, and an unspoken, unknown underlying tenderness. His laugh was a brillant sound to behold. It was one, I noticed, only I could solicite from his gentle, soft pink lips.
He brought out another person in me as well. I was less...Hermione-ish. More patient, loving. I cared about him. Genuinely. It was difficult sometimes, he was difficult, and we fought constantly, but I had come to love our banter.
I smiled down at him, watching as his own face curved into a small smile. It wasn't a smirk, like his angelic face usually beheld, it was a true smile. Crinkling the corners of his eyes.
I almost wanted to take a picture, but then I decided that if I really wanted one I would just take it from my memory and cast the Picture Memory charm on a peice of wizard photo paper.
I probably laid there for hours. Watching him. Listening to him breathe, making his chest rise and fall. Taking in his scent, his silent mannerisms. Touching his smooth features, caressing the curves of his upperbody. He was remarkable.
It was then I, the Gryffindor Princess, realized that I had fell head-over-heels in love with the Slytherin Prince.
AN: So, if I get enough positive reviews, maybe I'll make this a two-shot. The other would be Draco's POV. Thoughts?
Here's my inspiration, both done by fabulous artists, who I envy immensly:
Draco's image and idea for drabble:
http:/browse(DOT)deviantart(DOT)com/?q=draco malfoy hermione granger&order=9&offset=144#/d2tda0t
Hermione's likeness:
http:/browse(DOT)deviantart(DOT)com/?order=9&q=hermione#/d345e6c
