Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Happy birthday, Cat! Love you. :)
He's intoxicating.
There's whiskey on his breath and his dark eyes are glazed with grief and alchool and you know he won't remember a thing in the morning and you can't decide if it's a good thing or not.
Hot kisses down his jawline and have you forgotten the rule friends before lovers?
(Yeah, you have.)
You think, not for the first time, that his eyes put the city lights to shame.
(You'll never tell him that though.)
Hands through soft hair, and a shiver of delight and a low moan and lips on lips and you're torn with wanting him to remember this night between you two and not wanting him to remember, because you can't lose his friendship.
You can't lose him.
And all these worries fade from your mind as the eletricity between you two sizzles and cracks.
Tonight, it will be just the two of you.
(Tomorrow is another day.)