Ficlet loosely based on 'This Love' by Maroon 5 'cause I was listening to it.
'Don't leave,' whispered Hermione, tears forming in her eyes.
Fleur gave her a simple shake of the head, 'Ermione, as much as I love you, I can't keep living like this. It's not 'ealthy, for me or for you, ma chere.'
Fleur's use of the endearment made Hermione wince, it made it harder for her to understand why Fleur was leaving. Leaving her. Hermione held her arm, and encircled her own arms around Fleur, hoping to bring up some affection.
It worked, but it wasn't going to change Fleur's decision.
Hermione's lips made their way across Fleur's neck, across her shoulders, down her arms and back up again. They moved on to lavish attention to the area between her breasts.
'Oh, 'Ermione, oh mon amour,' gasped Fleur, as Hermione's hand made its way down her skirt.
'Shh…' murmured Hermione, pulling Fleur into a kiss, hands still busying themselves with undressing the flushed older woman.
Fleur's hands caressed her face and neck gently, running the length of her torso lovingly. She tried remembering why she was trying not to love Hermione anymore, but it was too hard, the soft curves and luscious lips were just too tempting. Hermione had always known how to play Fleur's body like a masterful musician with her favourite instrument. Was it because of Hermione's insecurities that she'd be jealous anytime Fleur happened to be looking in the general direction of another girl? A big no there, Fleur had eyes only for her lioness. Was it because of Hermione's constant lack of affection in public? Yes, that was precisely it. It had been more than two hands could count, the number of fights they'd had because Hermione was sure Fleur had been flirting or eyeing some girl at the bar or club.
The sensation of Hermione's probing fingers brought Fleur back into reality. Gasping and clutching on to Hermione as if she was the only one who could save her from drowning, Fleur gave into the pleasure. She returned the favour by turning and pressing herself against Hermione, her own fingers working their magic.
'Yes…' she hissed, rolling her hips hard into Hermione's hand.
She ended up lying on top of a half dressed Hermione, naked, but covered by Hermione's arm and a blanket. The body heat was comforting and familiar to Fleur who allowed herself and Hermione to take the little comfort they could while it lasted.
For the little time she slept, when she awoke, she knew she had to leave, otherwise she may regret anything she might say to Hermione next. Silently and deftly, she slipped from Hermione's embrace and grabbed her clothes, spelled her travel bags and called a cab to the airport.
'Please forgive me, mon amour. Je t'aime,' whispered Fleur, unable to stop herself from kissing Hermione on her forehead.
The brown haired younger woman gave a sigh and the angelic look on her face made Fleur cry.
'I love you Fleur,' murmured Hermione in her sleep.
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The cold harsh air hit Hermione's lungs as she yawned deeply. The lack of warmth and a body pressed against her form was foreboding and immediately she let out a cry of woe. So here she was, alone, with no Fleur. None of her things were here, only things they shared. Fleur really wasn't coming back this time.
Yet a space caught Hermione's teary eyes, Fleur's favourite photo of them together on the beach. This brought a little ray of sunshine into Hermione's dark cloud. Perhaps in time, perhaps with a little help and time away, Fleur would be willing to consider returning. Perhaps Hermione could learn to live with the fact that Fleur lived only to love her. Then maybe Fleur might come back, might be in her arms again.
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The days, the weeks, the months and then a year passed by, neither had contacted the other. Yet here was the opportunity Hermione had been longing for, the big Weasley Christmas dinner. Here she would confront and dearly apologise to her lover, her Fleur.