This one shot has bugging me for weeks.
The mornings were hardest for them both. They always were. He would stare at her, wondering if she was thinking of him. She was. He watched her full lips move, remembering the previous night, wondering if she was too. Of course she was. She couldn't bring herself to look at him; that was only for nights. She would crumble under his glance and would be reminded of how they were impossible.
Her friends knew. Well, they thought they did. Ron would try to comfort her about "that guy", but she didn't want his arms. She didn't need his arms. Ron would throw his arms around her in the hallway. When Draco passed she froze. His glance at her was a killer; she would pay for that later. She usually spent dinner time crying alone. She didn't understand why; she knew it had to be like this.
His friends knew. Another chick he'd slept with, he was the sex god after all. It didn't matter to him what they thought, she wasn't another girl. She was Hermione. The jealously threatened to eat him alive when he spotted her with the ginger. He hated her for doing this do him; didn't he? Of course he didn't.
She hated him. She told herself it every minute of every day; she could convince herself. She hated him. Even though this was her automatic response to his name, she could not pretend that the fluttering heart and uneasy stomach were hate. It was quite the opposite really. She should hate him, she knew she should. So why didn't she?
The lessons weren't the best for either of them; not the shared ones between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Sometimes they would compete to answer questions. They were the smartest of their gender after all. They wouldn't look at each other; the only difference was that he would no longer call her "mudblood" whenever the opportunity rose.
She threw herself into school, it was the only thing she had. She was funny, or sporty. She didn't have that traditional beauty. To him, she was the most beautiful girl in the planet. When the bell went he rushed to leave, before she could rise and her beauty would stun him. His cloak would fly behind him, and often his shoulder brushed hers. Both their hearts reacted furiously.
Finally; the night came. She would spend two hours perfecting herself for him. Her sexiest underwear, for him. She wished he noticed. He did. When they were together at night, she was the only thing in the world to him. They met in the room of requirement and would never be heard. Entering the room was easy for them now; they'd practiced enough. Her slender body would shake until he touched her. His fingers quivered under her breath, her soft skin. He needed her. As he stripped her he always noticed how the color of her underwear complimented her skin. He wanted to tell her. She loved the perfect muscles of his chest. Their bodies crushed together, closer than close, needing the friction. In that moment, that perfect moment, when he slid into her she felt complete. They both did. In those unbelievable moments they were one. The way they liked it best. He held her then, listening to her moans, the most beautiful sound in the world. The sweat made her hair bushier than usual. He would kiss her head to show how he felt.
Thrust.
She moaned and scraped his back.
Thrust.
He moaned and kissed her lips.
Thrust.
They came together. At first they were silent, but now they called the others name. He adored "Draco" coming from her lips. It was perfect.
They lay together for the next hours, just talking. But all good things have to end.
"Hermione, we have to leave." His voice was always strained. He hated leaving. She nodded, unwilling. "Tomorrow?"
Her eyes filled with tears, she hated goodbyes. She wanted to scream it from the tallest tower.
I love you.
Three words they ached to say and hear. Would they? Could they? Maybe one day. Every single time he tried he choked.
"'Mione. I-I-lo- I had fun." He managed. His eyes said it all. With every glance he told her he loved her. Every hug, every time he made love to her. Couldn't she see it?
"Bye Draco." With a final kiss, they departed. Their love was unconditional, yet impossible. They were enemies in every way, but soul mates all the same. The nights were perfect for them both, better than any could have imagined. They held those memories close. After all, it would be morning again soon. They would have to suffer an entire day of hating each other, or whatever denial they called it, until they were together again.
Hermione and Draco hated mornings.
Hope you enjoyed it, reviews are nice you know? Should I make it a series of oneshots?