Title: Simpler Things
Author: neverlookback
Rating: PG
Pairing: Draco/Hermione
Summary: Playful denial chat in bed.
Notes: Today, I was feeling a bit fluffy. (x-posted 2x5obsessions & 100Quills)
x.x.x
His foot lazily brushed mine underneath the covers. I giggled; he smiled a smile which echoed genuine feelings of contentment. Contentment which, for the moment, remained unchained and unplagued by outside burdens.
"Tell me, Granger," he said as he traced my bare skin with his toes, "if you could have three wishes—"
I rolled my eyes. "How original, Draco. Can't come up with something new, creative?"
Draco lifted an eyebrow in response. "Was it not your Muggle mate Fellini—"
"Why do all Muggles have to be mates of mine?"
"—who claimed total freedom inhibits creativity?"
I leaned on my side and looked up at Draco lying next to me, perched on his elbow with his head on his fist. "How do you mean?"
"The more you restrict yourself, the more you are challenged to be creative." He gracefully lowered himself to the pillow. "So. Three wishes. You are confined to only three, Granger. Think wisely—"
"To be a child, have a pony, and be treated like a princess."
"What?" I had nearly memorized the contours of his face as he shifted from emotion to emotion. Confusion meant slightly furrowed brows, closed eyes (only for a brief moment) and a deep inhale.
"My three wishes," I answered.
His face shifted and he became more visibly relaxed, content. "Those are ridiculous!"
I feigned insult and rolled over on my other side with a 'hmph'. He inched closer, spooning be from behind; I felt the base of his throat on top of my head, felt his chuckle as it reverberated through his chest.
"And here the world believed Miss Hermione Granger to be practical," he murmured into my thick hair. "A pony. Really, Granger."
I fingered his forearm and stared at the nightlight across the room. "What would be your three wishes, Draco?"
He was silent. His breathing comforted me, but his lack of words made me impatient. Draco was never one for lack of words.
I turned over to face him. He looked into my eyes and cupped my face softly.
"One of my thousands of wishes," he said quietly, "is to make you happy."
I grinned. "I am happy, silly." I kissed him on the lips lightly before embracing him on the bed. I knew what he was thinking, because I was thinking it, too, before I entered this room and before I saw his face for the first time in days. "You make me happy."
"Do I really?"
My fingers found their way to his nape. I combed through his strands of blond hair and pushed away thoughts of what the future could bring, what the past could bring up. "Yes."
"Good," was all he said. I sighed deep into his chest as he hugged me tighter. "Good.