Hello, it's me again! I know I'm in the middle of posting Unsalvageable, and before I continue I'll promise I'll finish it. It's just that I have a whole bunch of stories already written on my computer and I reallyyyyy wanted to post this. It was originally supposed to be a OneShot, but I've decided to put it up in four parts because all together it's over 20,000 words I just thought it would be easier on the eyes this way. It's rated M because of mature subjects including infidelity, (mild) alcohol abuse and some sexual nature.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world, or the characters. They're just on loan :)
Reviews and Feedback are always welcome!
Rut
In which Hermione Granger finds herself in the middle of a rut after finalizing her divorce from one Ronald Weasley. Bored and lonely, Hermione decides to take her life back, in the most unexpected way possible. And just what does Draco Malfoy have to do with it?
X
When Hermione Granger was seven years old she'd spent days planning out her entire life. From her wedding day; in the middle of the summer-most likely in late July because it's her favorite month. To her honeymoon; CandyLand-because it's magical and wonderful and who wouldn't want to go to a land made of Candy? Right down to the number and names of her children; two-a boy and a girl so that neither one of them get lonely being an only child, with the names Rosalyn (Rose for short, because it's her favorite flower) and Denis (because she fancies Denis the Menace). She would become a teacher because she loves school and studying and books. And she would grow old with her husband, the love of her life, and live happily-ever-after.
Hermione Granger believed in fairytales, and this was her very own.
By the time Hermione Granger was thirty-five years old, she'd stopped believing in fairytales. She stopped believing in things like true love and perfection and happily-ever-after's. For on her thirty-fifth birthday, she'd filed for divorce from her husband of sixteen years Ronald Weasley.
They'd been on the verge of divorce for years; had separated five months before. They were no longer happy in their marriage and she was no longer happy in her own fairytale.
The end of the war, in which the Light had prevailed and the Dark had succumbed to their own darkness, brought about a world of change in the Wizarding World. It brought about sorrow and grief, but it also brought about celebration. It brought about freedom and peace and happiness. It brought about a world in which Muggleborns and Pureblood could live together without prejudices and statuses. It freed the house elves from their slavery; although many of them remained assistant-like to their masters and mistress', with pay. It brought about love affairs and marriages and babies being reproduced by the hundreds, like the Baby Boom after World War One.
And at the age of 18, Hermione's childhood fairytale began to take shape. Ron, who's been her best friend for six years and her unofficial boyfriend for a seventh, proposed just days after the Final Battle. She'd said yes, of course, because what better time to do such a thing as to get married and start family? Neither of them wanted to waste any more time, not after how many times they just barely escaped death. Not after almost losing one another countless times. Four months later they were married; she was officially Hermione Weasley in every way that counted. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived Twice, had also wasted no time in proposing to his girlfriend Ginny Weasley and marrying her just a month later.
By the following year Hermione found herself working for the Ministry as an Auror, alongside Harry, Ron and Draco Malfoy. (It wasn't a teaching job, but she enjoyed it well enough).Yes-Draco Malfoy had become an Auror. About a month before the Final Battle he'd showed up at number 12 Grimmauld place pale, thin and extremely exhausted. He said that he was tired of fighting, tired of killing innocent people. He said that he would give them everything they needed to know in order to take down the Dark Lord once and for all, in exchange for the safety and protection of his family; although Lucius had died just a few months later in the Final Battle. After the war, the remaining Malfoys had played quite a large role in helping rebuild the Wizarding World. Narcissa had lent her services to the newest Head Master at Hogwarts-Professor McGonogall-to help rebuild the school, while also lending plenty of galleons to the Ministry. Draco had begun the journey of righting all of his father's past sins, bearing the weight of the Malfoy name on his shoulders, before signing up for the newest session of Auror training.
When she was 24 she gave birth to hers and Ron's first child-a girl. It was probably the second best day of her life, seeing their creation for the first time since finding out they'd been successful nine months before. She had a bit of red hair on her head like her father and brown eyes like her mother, a perfect mixture of both of her parents. Ron was so ecstatic at the prospect of their bundle of joy having ten toes and ten fingers and a perfect little button nose that he didn't even care what her name was. And the name Rose sounded far too perfect to pass up. Rosalyn Weasley.
Two years later, she gave birth to their second child-a son. Unlike Rose, he had brown hair like his mother and blue eyes like his father. Ron had been so adamant about naming him Hugo from the moment they found out the gender months before, that Hermione had complied. Besides, he was far too beautiful to argue about anyway.
Something happened after Hugo's sixth birthday. She isn't sure what, whether the world shifted or whether she just shifted, but something changed between them. They started to argue constantly, over everything and anything. And the more they argued, the further they drifted apart. It was like she didn't recognize the man she married; worse though, she didn't recognize herself. She didn't recognize the woman that stared back at her in the mirror. But still, she tried. She tried to convince herself she was happy, she tried to make her husband happy. She tried really, really hard.
It only made her more miserable, made her family more miserable.
Three years later, at the age of 35 and just months after Rose went off to Hogwarts, she filed for divorce. She would've filed sooner, had it not been for the fact that she wanted her daughter to start her first school year off on a happy, good note.
Now, two years later at the age of 37, Hermione Granger finds herself divorced. She finds it sort of ironic that her first day as a newly single woman in approximately nineteen years, is the first day of school-more importantly, the first day of Hugo's first year.
Needless to say, things around the Granger flat-the one she purchased when they separated-are in a state of disarray. A thirteen year old Rose is running around in a panic because she can't find anything to wear, despite having a wardrobe full of clothes-here, and back at the house. And Hugo, who is perfectly fine wearing his favorite Superman t-shirt and a pair of trousers, is running around in a panic that he doesn't have everything he needs.
"Hugo, sweetie listen to me okay?" Hermione says calmly, bending down to look her son in the face. "I checked everything, it's fine. And daddy's gonna bring your owl," she reminds the little boy.
"But-"
"Everything is under control, okay? Now go brush your teeth."
Hugo groans, before running down to the hall to the bathroom.
"Rose! We're gonna be late, hurry up!" Hermione calls down the hall to her daughters bedroom.
"Ughhhhh! I don't have anything to wear!" the over-dramatic teenager screeches in frustration.
"You've got a wardrobe full of things to wear Rose. And besides, you're just gonna have to change into your school robes in a few hours anyway-"
"So? I can't go looking like a bum, mum. First impressions are everything," the redhead says in that 'duh' sort of tone she likes to use around her mother.
"First impressions? Rose you've gone to school with most of these kids for two years already-"
"So?"
Hermione sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes tightly. "So hurry up, or we'll leave without you."
"You are so unfair!"
The young red head stomps her foot dramatically before disappearing back into her room. Ever since announcing to her kids that their parents weren't going to be together anymore, Rose has been acting out-sometimes lashing out. Mostly at her. Hugo on the other hand, seems fine.
Hermione sighs, grabbing her bag off of the couch and her cloak off of the hook at the front door. "Life's unfair."
X
Approximately two hours later, after seeing both Rose and Hugo off along with Ron (although they hardly talk at all) and Harry and Ginny who are seeing their own children off, Hermione walks into the Auror Headquarters. She can feel everyone's gazes on her, watching her like they're waiting for her to fall apart. Her divorce has been no secret, in fact it's been the most exciting thing that's happened in the Wizarding World in years. The Daily Prophet took it upon themselves to follow every move either one of them made and sharing it all with the world. Needless to say, she's hardly had any privacy in the last two years. And now that it's all over, she isn't sure that privacy is ever going to come back.
Still, she walks down the hall to her office with her head held high and her shoulders squares; the vision of a single, confident woman. The second she closes the door to her office however, she slumps against the piece of wood separating her from colleagues and closes her eyes as she runs a hand through her hair. Because behind closed door she doesn't have the confidence she portrays in public. In fact she's rather insecure, for an intelligent woman of thirty-seven who fought in a war and won. She isn't sure who she is anymore and it's rather frightening.
As if on cue, the second she sits down at her desk and rests her coffee cup on the coaster, somebody knocks on her door. Sighing softly, she leans back in her chair, crosses her right leg over her left and plasters a smile on her face. "Come in!"
The door opens to reveal a woman with long, fiery red hair and blue eyes, wearing a fancy dress suit. Ginny; her ex-sister-in-law and current best girl friend. The redhead shuffles inside quickly before shutting the door. "I'm aware that I just saw you, but Harry left his lunch at home and I had time before going to the office so I decided to just drop it off. And I also wanted to check up on you."
She smiles weakly, and Hermione can't help but genuinely smile back. The divorce had taken two years to finalize, but both families had remained surprisingly neutral.
"I'm fine, Ginny," the brunette insists.
"You're sure?"
"Positive."
"And you're sure you'll be able to keep working with him?" Ginny wonders. She doesn't have to specify who 'him' is, for Hermione to catch on.
The truth is, Hermione's been contemplating quitting the Auror's office for quite some time. She just hasn't had the guts or the means to do so. "I've been fine this far," she points out, smiling confidently.
"Yeah but now it's all so...real, you know?"
"Yeah. Look, I'll be fine, really. Ron and I...we can get along when need be, so don't worry about me."
", if you're sure.. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me," Ginny tells her softly, not wanting to lose contact with her friend.
"I won't," Hermione promises.
Ginny nods, and turns towards the door to leave and find her husband.
"Ginny?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you, for all of your support. I couldn't ask for a better girl friend."
Ginny just smiles and winks at her best friend, before disappearing into the hall, leaving the door open behind her.
Hermione can feel a pair of eyes burning into her and she tries desperately to ignore it. It's different from all of the other gazes, for this one isn't full of pity and wariness. It's full of something else she can't quite describe. Against her better judgement she looks up from her desk and her gaze meets that of molten silver, hiding behind blonde bangs but not invisible.
X
She carries about the rest of the week in a sort of daze, like she's only going through the motions. She wakes up in the morning, has breakfast, goes to work, (avoids him the best she can, which is working surprisingly well), comes home, and then she does it all over again the next day. Every night she finds herself missing her children more and more; more than she ever had before when Rose had been at school. She feels twice as lonely and pathetic and bored than she used to. When, exactly, did her life get so boring?
It's nearing 3 o'clock on Friday afternoon, and she can't wait until the big hand reaches the twelve on the grandfather clock in her office and she can go home and stay home for the next two days before the monotonous routine kicks back up on Monday. She's on her way to Kingsleys office to give Gina report he had asked for early that afternoon when she bumps into Ron. They look at each other awkwardly before he decides to make a rather sad attempt at small talk. She commends him for trying though, even as she starts to wonder how two people can go from being so in love to being complete strangers. She bids him a quick goodbye and I'll-see-you-around before ducking quickly into Kingsley's office.
Ten minutes later she's on her way back to her own office when she collides with something hard and solid, and she's fairly certain that whatever it is doesn't belong there. She's right. Her eyes widen for a moment as she looks up into the face of one Draco Malfoy. She looks at him and he looks back. He give her that look. She's not quite sure how to read it, so she doesn't know what it means or what it says, but it's sort of familiar; like she's seen it before.
She clears her throat, mutters a soft but clear 'Malfoy' to which he responds with an equally soft 'Granger' before they both go their separate ways.
X
Another week of monotonous routines and going through the motions passes. It's the same thing every day and quite frankly she's bored. Has she always been this boring? Has this always been her life, and she's only just noticing now that she's utterly alone? When did it get to be like this? And why?
She doesn't have an answer to any of those questions, no matter how often she asks herself.
It's nearing 7 o'clock on Friday evening; she's been working for the last ten hours straight. She's started to bury herself in her work-a workaholic is what Harry calls her. In her defense though, it's not that she want* to work all the time, it's just that she has nothing better to do. She doesn't tell him that though because she knows that he'll just invite her over any way, and the chances of running into her ex-husband at their best friend's house is extremely high. It's not that she doesn't like him or can't tolerate him, it's just that things are still quite tense and awkward between them, and she'd rather not be reminded of that.
She yawns, leaning back in her chair lazily as she glances up at her grandfather clock. 6:57. A knock on her open door pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks up to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the doorframe casually. "Hey. You're still here," she notices, somewhat surprised.
"So are you," he points out.
"I was just leaving."
He smirks, looking at her position behind her desk up and down. "I can see that. So was I."
"What kept you?" she asks curiously.
"Paper work, loads of it. You?"
"Same." It's a lie, she'd finished her paper work a longtime ago. She just hadn't wanted to go home to empty flat just yet.
"I was gonna go grab a bite to eat, and maybe a drink. Care to join me?" he offers casually.
She looks skeptically at him. They may work together, sure, and give each other advice every once in a while. And every now and then they'll sit at the same lunch table down stairs, but their relationship had never moved past that. Neither of them had given it a chance to, not once in nineteen years.
He must notice the skeptical look because he rolls his eyes.
"You don't have to, it was just an invitation from colleague to another. If you have something you'd rather be doing-"
"I don't, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I don't do a whole lot...anymore. But I was just gonna go home."
He nods-and is it just her or does a he look a little bit disappointed? "Well, if you change your mind I'll be at the Hogshead." He turn to leave then, for the elevators.
She watches him as he waits, and a sudden urge to go with him washes over her. She hasn't had proper human communication in weeks. She hasn't been out in public or otherwise with another human being in just as long. Perhaps this could be a good thing. Perhaps this could be just what she needs. Jumping out of her chair and grabbing her purse and cloak off of the hanger behind her, she bolts out of her office and towards the elevators. "Malfoy, wait!"
He smirks, turning to face her. "Come to join me?"
"Yes," she confirms.
A hint of a smile plays on his lips even though he turns his gaze on the elevator doors. "What made you change your mind?"
"I'm...extremely hungry," she lies, again.
"Hungry, right.. So it has nothing to do with being lonely?"
A blush creeps up onto her cheeks. "Maybe a little."
Dinner and a few drinks with an old enemy is all it takes for her to feel a little more human and a little less lonely.
X
Her routine changes slightly over the next few weeks. She's spending a little less time at the office thanks to Ginny's constant worrisome behavior and Draco's insistence that she get out more. They've taken to having lunch together in Diagon Ally every other day, and they've gone out for dinner once or twice due to the fact that she has a habit of forgetting to eat lunch if he doesn't pull her along with him.
This is one of those days.
The knock at the door startles her even though she knows who it is, and even though she should've known to expect it. They hadn't had lunch that day and thus, it'd completely slipped her mind. Only now, looking up at the tall blonde haired man who saunters into her office like he does every day, does she realize just how hungry she is. Her stomach growls loudly and she can tell by the look on his face that he hears it.
"What am I gonna do with you Granger, make a lunch for you every day?" he teases, although his tone holds a bit seriousness to it.
She looks down at the papers strewn about her desk sheepishly. "I forgot…"
"You always forget, unless I'm the one who mentions it. Now c'mon, let's go get something to eat."
"In a minute-"
"Now, Granger. Your work will still be here tomorrow, you need to eat," he says sternly.
She looks up at him, smirking one that would rival his own. "If I didn't know any better Malfoy, I might think that you care."
"Nonsense, I just can't have you dying on me from lack of food. Potter would have my head."
"Right."
"Chinese of Mexican?"
"Chinese."
With a nod of his head, he moves to the side and lets her pass ahead of him. They've developed their own sort of routine, sort of like friends. Friends without the meaningful conversations and common ground that it.
She feels alive for the first time in a really long time. She's laughing. She's smiling. For the first time she feels something other than utterly lonely...something other than a boring, single mother. And with Draco Malfoy, of all people. She's tipsy and giggly and she likes it. She likes it a lot.
Nursing her fifth cocktail of the night in their favourite Chinese Restaurant, just as the two of them lapse into a comfortable silence, she finds herself eyeing him. He takes a sip of his forth fire whiskey of the night, before setting the glass on the table as he stares into the dark liquid. "You know Malfoy, I haven't had this much fun in...well, forever."
He looks up at her, somewhat surprised, before that familiar smirk settles on his lips. Is it just her, or does that sort of make him look...hotter? "Seriously?"
"Seriously," she slurs, nodding her head. "I mean, aside from the time I spend with my kids...when I have them."
"Are you sure you want to admit that out loud, that you're having a good time with a Malfoy?" he teases, the alcohol in him showing it's colours.
"Yes." She's confident in her answer, and that seems to surprise him more than anything. Their eyes lock for a few beats, in which they stare at each other in an almost…humbling sort of way.
"You're serious, aren't you?" he realizes.
"Sadly, yes.."
"So I was right all along wasn't I? You never did know how to have fun." There's a hint of teasing in his voice again, and his eyes are flickering with something along the lines of...amusement.
"It's not that I didn't know how, I just...didn't have time," she admits, recalling the things she may or may not have missed out on in her school years. "If I wasn't fighting off evil wizards, I was studying and if I wasn't studying I was running around after Harry and Ronald to make them study.
"And after the war?"
"I married Ron. Then I finished school. And then I started working, and had children and-"
"Before you even realized it, you're life had flashed you by," he finishes, taking a sip of his drink.
She blinks, taken aback. "Sort of, yeah."
"Yeah…I know what you mean," he mutters, looking away from her.
"C'mon Malfoy, you had loads of fun in school."
"Well, yeah, but once I...took the mark, 'fun' was pretty much out of the picture. And then afterwards, I was so busy picking up the pieces of my family and, righting the wrongs of my father so that one could be proud of the Malfoy family name, I didn't have time for fun. And, like you, before I knew it I was married and Scorpius was on the way.
"Hmm..." she trails off, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Looks like we have more in common than one might think."
"Looks like…"
They fall into another, slightly more awkward silence, with both of them staring into their empty glasses. She looks up at him for brief moment, through her eyelashes, before looking back down. They've talked before, but never anything about their personal lives...never anything so deep. And it's not even that deep.
"What do you say we get out of here?" he suggests suddenly, his eyes lighting up with a bright idea. "There's a little pub down the street, we can have a few more drinks, play pool...have fun."
She snorts loudly. "You, Draco Malfoy, play pool?"
"Occasionally, sure," he shrugs.
She glances at the watch on her left wrist, almost gasping at the time. "I dunno Malfoy, it's going on 9 o'clock. Besides, you should probably go home to your wife."
"My wife is out with her lady friends, discussing Merlin knows what, that I am not-and never will be-interested in. Besides, it's like you've said...this is the most fun I've had in quite some time. Why ruin it so early?" His eyes flicker mischievously as he leans forward with his elbows on the table. She looks at him weirdly, her eye brows raised as she considers him carefully, as well as his offer. Logically speaking, she should say no. (But going home to an empty flat doesn't sound very appealing). Logically speaking, she shouldn't even be here, with Malfoy, and enjoying his company. (But he can be quite an amusing person when he doesn't have his guard up all the time). Logically speaking she should just go home and forget about the whole thing because hanging out with Malfoy could be very, very hazardous to her health.
So, therefore her answer is-
"Yeah, sure, why not," she responds casually.
That was most definately not supposed to be the answer. Her answer was supposed to be a solid no. And yet it seems as though her subconscious has other plans. Perhaps her subconscious is right then, perhaps she needs to throw caution to wind and just let herself have fun.
Perhaps-
-this was a very, very good idea!
"I thought you said you played pool!" A moderately drunk Hermione Granger giggles as he misses his forth shot in a row.
He rolls his eyes, standing up straight with his right hand wrapped around the top of the pool stick and his left resting on his hip. He too, is quite drunk. It's just a little bit less obvious. "I said I played, Granger. I didn't say I played well. "
"You don't play well at all."
He drops his mouth open in mock shock and places his left hand over his chest where his heart is. "No need to get mean, Granger," he pouts playfully.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." She covers her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. But the corners of her mouth curl into a smile she can't contain and the look on his face pulls the laughter out of her. He rolls his eyes playing, stepping away from the table.
"It's your turn Granger, have at it."
She eyes the table, once the laughter dies, and realizes that the only ball left for her to sink is the 8 ball. She finds her place and her angle easily, bending down to take her shot. Without any hesitation she shoots and the little black ball is sunk with ease. She lets out a victorious squeal as she throws her arms into the air and tosses the blonde beside her an innocent little smile. "And that, my friend, is how you play pool."
"Yeah well you've had years of practice. I haven't."
"You're just bitter because you lost." She sticks her tongue out at him as she places her pool stick on top of the table. He follows suite, before grabbing her jacket and helping her into it.
"I'll let you in a little secret Malfoy, since we're friends and all-"
"We're friends?"
She looks thoughtful again, tilting her chin up and squinting her eyes. "Yes," she decides finally.
There isn't even a hint of hesitation in her voice, and he finds himself smiling at her confidence. Suddenly she's leaning forward, her lips lingering at his ear and her left hand resting on his shoulder. "I'm much better when I'm drunk."
X
The following Friday finds both of them back in the same bar, at the same pool table and under the influence of the same amount of alcohol. The only difference is that Draco seems to have come a long way from the week previous. So far, in fact, that they're basically tied. She watches with bated breath as he lines up his last shot that would leave them officially tied. He makes it, earning a loud cheer from the crowd that has since gathered to watch their rather intense game.
"I thought you said last week that you didn't play well!"
He grins at her, looking up through his bangs as he leans down for a shot at the 8 ball. He misses, shrugs, and then slides over to stand beside her as she contemplates the best angle for her to take. "Not everything is as it appears Granger."
Her mouth drops open as she turns to look at him. "You lied to me.. Did you let me win too?"
His eyes flicker mischievously and his lips curl into his trademark smirk as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"Well then I refuse to let you win this round," she mutters confidently.
Since their match last week, things between them have been quite...competitive. They've always been the competitive type, having always tried to out-do one another in school and such, but this is more of a playful, healthy competitiveness. The kind that keeps one on their toes. The kind that Hermione longs for, for it makes her feel...superior. She no longer finds herself moping around her flat day in and day out; she's far too busy competing with Malfoy for that to happen.
She concentrates hard on making her shot, which she ultimately misses. Groaning out loud, she glares at Draco as he steps into place with ease and eyes the table for a line up. A satisfied smirk settles into place as he bends down, takes the shot, and makes it. The entire bar erupts into cheers and laughter and celebration. Complete strangers are clapping him on the back like he's won the Quidditch Cup, while others are consoling her as though her dog just died-or because her divorce was just finalized. Who would've thought that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy would be bonding over something like...pool-or anything really.
She catches his gaze from across the pool table as he maneuvers his way through the crowd towards her. He stops in front her, extending his hand for her to shake, which she accepts with a small smile and a playful roll of her eyes.
"Nice match."
"You too. Liar."
Electricity-what feels like it anyway-shoots through her arm and she drops his hand. They continue to stare at one another, and only then does she realize how close she is to him. Her mind begins to spin in all sorts of different directions-and as if on cue a waitress approaches them both, with a fruity cocktail in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. She leans in close to Draco's ear and Hermione feels a sort of tight feeling in her chest-
"It's on the house, for you and your girlfriend," the waitress says.
Upon hearing the word 'girlfriend' Hermione reels back before stepping forward, her attention solely put on the young college student in question.
"We're not-"
"Thank you, very much," Draco replies quickly, cutting her off.
Before Hermione can get another word in edgewise he's pulling her away from the crowd and into a more secluded-but not empty-corner of the bar. Her back hits the wall softly and she stumbles to stay on her feet, grabbing onto it for stability. She looks at him in confusion as he hands her her glass-when did he even grab that?
"Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Stop me from telling her I wasn't your girlfriend," she clarifies awkwardly.
"Because," he replies shortly, looking away.
"Because?"
He sighs, shrugging his shoulders. "Because does it really matter? Either she was fishing for a reaction so she would know whether or not she had a chance with me, or she just doesn't care at all. Either way, it doesn't matter."
They're close again-too close-as he had to lean forward for her to hear him. She can smell his cologne, see the light blonde stubble covering his jaw like a blanket and she's having weird thoughts about running her fingers over the prickly hairs. (Ron never had stubble). She can feel his breath on her face, hot and sticky, and she finds herself getting hotter and stickier.
She clears her throat, realizing that she hasn't yet answered him. "I suppose you're right, but-"
She's thrust into silence and someone bumps into him which catapults him into her. She's already standing firmly against the wall so she doesn't move, she only catches his fall with her entire body. Sucking on her breath, as his body rests flush against hers, with his left forearm resting on the wall beside her head (where he had attempted to catch his fall), she looks up into his face. The mischievous look in his eyes is gone along with that familiar smirk on his lips. It's now replaced with something she doesn't even recognize. All of a sudden his face is getting closer and closer and her gaze falls to his lips despite the voice in her head telling her to pull herself together.
Minutes later they're stumbling through her flat. His lips are on hers, hotwetexperiencedanddelicious; and his hands are everywhere at once, hairneckbreastsbum. She rakes her fingers through his hair, her fingernails scratching his scalp slightly, eliciting a moan from his lips which vibrate against hers as he pushes her into the wall. He presses his body against hers as he lifts her up ease and wraps her legs around his waist to keep her there. She locks her ankles just above his bum as he rips his lips away from hers and leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses down her neck and across her collar bones, biting down on the skin. She tosses her head back, moaning in pleasure as he sucks on her pulse point.
"B-edroom…" she stutters. Her voice comes out breathy and husky. She closes her eyes as he hums against her throat and lowers her back onto her feet.
"Lead the way."