This is my first story in quite a long time. It is based on the song Touch by Natasha Bedingfield but it is not a song fic. Please review and enjoy and remember, I own nothing.
Every interaction starts a chain reaction.
Months were swirling together. Time flew by. Days felt like minutes, but neither of them seemed to care. This affair was no longer a fresh, new attraction. They knew each other's touch, their weak points, and how to make them yell in pleasure. They were connected.
Late nights and covered up lies however, weren't so perfect. Both had kids, both were married. This was so wrong, but wrong just felt so right. Her skin felt so soft under the light touch of his finger tips. His hair wrapped perfectly around her slender fingers. They least expected it to happen.
Her mind flew back to the moment it all started. It was a casual conversation in the passing of two people. He was on his way in and she was on her way out. She had been reading the report just handed to her, not looking where she was going. He was running late. Damn coffee shop didn't have his order waiting for him, forcing him to wait in line like the common folk. She ran right into his shoulder, forcing him to spill his coffee down her blouse. Seems that spilling that coffee was no accident at all.
He apologized quickly, piling her papers up for her as she cursed to herself before mopping up the spill with a simple spell. Their eyes locked as he handed the papers to her. He knew those eyes anywhere. Her chocolate brown eyes went immediately to his platinum hair. They laughed awkwardly at the touch.
She gathered her papers from him, past seemingly forgotten. He apologized once more, told her he was running late, but he'd love to make up for it by grabbing drinks later. It was the least he could do. She didn't think and agreed. Yelling a location and time, he stepped into his meeting, leaving her to her thoughts. Going home to change would raise unwanted questions. She walked the streets of London looking for a suitable outfit for the evening. A dress in a boutique window caught her eye.
He walked into the bar, music blaring in his ears and scanned the room for her curly locks. She was waiting for him at a table in the corner, her drink already gone. She was nervous. He motioned to the bartender for a drink of his own and another of whatever she was having. She smiled as he sat himself down and they began talking about life and what they'd been doing since the war had ended. She knew that he had turned himself over and served his time. The last time she'd seen him, they'd both been wishing their kids farewell at the platform. Funny how it all works out.
She was swaying slightly in her seat to the music. He took notice and offered his hand. She denied at first saying she never danced anymore. Ron hated going dancing so she never had the chance and claimed she'd forgotten how. He leaned in close as the music pumped louder and let her know that he'd remind her how. His voice sent shivers up and down her spine. Shivers she'd never once felt before. Taking his outstretched hand, she allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. So they danced.
She laughed as he spun her around the dance floor. They had obvious chemistry. Time flew by. They drank, laughed and danced the night away. When either of them realized what the time was, they wished it hadn't flown by so quickly. They left the bar in an awkward silence, taking in the events of the night. The only light on the street was a single flickering street post. He kicked an imaginary rock on the ground before noticing that she was shivering. He removed his jacket and placed it gently on her shoulders. His smell engulfed her. She found her body moving closer to his. She wasn't ready for the night to end. Taking the hint, he motioned his head towards a local inn. She gave a confident nod. They'd partied all night and when the sun came up they'd faced the consequences.
The night had been intense. Neither had been touched that way in so long. When he held her all through the night she felt safe and secure. Her thoughts never strayed once to the worried man waiting for her at home. He gave her a morning kiss as he stroked her hair. It felt so soft beneath his fingers. This was the start. How it all began.
Every choice they made, every road they take, every interaction starts a chain reaction. They were both affected when they least expected, until they touched and it all connected.
EDITED 3/1/16