She was crying. It was the worst I had ever felt in my life, I wanted to rip my heart out and give it to her as an apology for everything I had put her through. She deserved better than me, I had always known this, but I was too selfish to follow through. So here she was now, crying because of my decisions again.
"I just—just don't understand…why!" she sobs into her hands. I try to place my hand on her shoulder to comfort her, but she brushes me off, and I try not to cry in return.
"You know why, Hermione, you've always known this day would come. I wish it never would have…I wish I could have stopped time and let us live together in our peace, but I couldn't. I'm so sorry," I apologize.
"You don't have to do this!" she almost yells, lifting her face to look at me. I am almost distracted by the redness of her cheeks. "We can be happy, we can be together! I don't care what I have to do, who I have to convince, where I need to go—I can't live my life without you. How could you not understand?" Tears stream down her face, leaving beautifully painful trails on her skin. "I thought you loved me, I thought you said we'd b together forever, I thought you would fight for me!" She breaks down again, collapsing into my kitchen chair.
I grab her hand and hold on tight, confirming my words. "I do. I loved you all this time—but it's not enough. I can't give you the life you want, especially since I want you to have it. I know you'll take any life you can as long as we're together, but I can't do that to you. I won't."
She shakes her head, her breath hitching a few times before she speaks, "I want you to love me. I don't care about anything else. I don't need a ring or a wedding; I don't need a family or a big house; I don't need any of that. I need you," she begs.
Knowing she won't stop fighting until she breaks through my excuses about not wanting to be with her anymore, I take a breath. I decide I need her to leave now, or else I will break down and beg her to forgive me.
"Hermione…," I swallow hard, "Hermione, I don't love you anymore."
Her eyes, which had gone soft when I whispered her name, turned cold as stone and bore into my soul. "Yes you do," she basically growls.
And suddenly her lips are on mine, kissing away my fears about us. She grabs at my hair, pulling me closer, and kissing me harder, trying to get me to forget our conversation. But I refuse.
I push her off. "I can't do this anymore."
She places her hands low on my hips, running her finger tips under my waistband. "Take me," she whispers, coming up on her tiptoes and saying it into my ear.
I lose my control, knowing—forcing myself to believe—this is the last time this will ever happen. Suddenly my shirt is being torn off and her skirt is going down. Clothes are thrown everywhere as I lower her onto her back on the kitchen floor.
I thrust into her the moment I situate myself on top of her, and bury my face in her neck, not able to look in her eyes. Trying to get this over with as fast as possible, I thrust by far the hardest and the fastest I ever have. I want her to experience some of the pain that is ripping apart my heart as we're doing this.
She whimpers, her hands crawling all over my back and to my chest. She tries to push me away so I lighten up my thrusting. I don't. I drive into her harder and deeper, hearing her whimper in my ear as I tear her apart. I tried telling her she deserved better than me.
"Ow, mmm, ouch," she breathes, taking my anger inside her. She doesn't ask me to stop, and I don't signal that I will anytime soon. She knows at this point that I'm still angry and she doesn't want to make it worse by asking me to stop my hard thrusts into her. Even if she starts to bleed and I tear her to shreds, she won't utter a single complaint, trying to comply with my needs.
I pound into her, barely feeling the pleasure coursing through me, my body reacting without my mind. I don't care if his would be the best sensation I ever felt, I want it over with fast.
She pulls my head up from her shoulder and kisses me hard, trying to have me remember why we're doing this. She forces her tongue in my mouth and I accept it, knowing the more I give her, the easier this will be to end. She places her hands on my cheeks, and it's then that I realize I'm crying, the wetness making them hold on unsteadily.
I'm even angrier with myself now than I was earlier. Now I've let it known to her that I am caring more about this fuck than I had originally planned. She's taking full advantage of my weakness and using all her old seduction tricks on me.
Her hands stay upon my face, pulling me into her deeper, and I feel her body react to me. I speed up my thrusts compensating for my affection in the kiss. She moans in the back of her throat, trying not to let it actually escape her mouth. I take that as a cue, and finish my pounding as I make one last thrust deep into her. I shudder as the pleasure rushes through me. That's when I realize she's been crying.
"Stop, please, stop," she begs.
I immediately stop moving, realizing I started shaking her out of anger. "I'm so sorry," I whisper one last time.
I stand up, leaving her on the kitchen floor. Hurriedly pulling on my pants and shirt, I search for my wand. She's still lying there, fully exposed, waiting for me to talk to her.
"Goodbye, Hermione," I say, and I apparate.
The last thing I see is her face covered in tears, and the last thing I hear is her say my name, "Draco…"