Breaking Hearts Has Never Looked So Cool

Hey you guys, this is just the default chappie. I hope you like this story, kind of OOC, also kind of not, let's just say there are times when the characters are.

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This story is placed when the two are 19, when it gets down to the ONE YEAR LATER part, they are 20.

On to the story, hope you enjoy.

Default Chapter

His hand was on her lower back; his other had her right hand extended out to the sides of them, as he dipped her again. Her head gently lying back as he lightly brushed his lips against her chest; she drew a quick intake of breath and closed her eyes. Dancing with him was ecstasy. He gracefully brought her out of the dip and pulled her close to him once more. She stared into his eyes as they continued to dance a hairsbreadth apart; he was leading her across the floor in a series of spins and dips, and she willingly let him.

All the while she was staring at a man whose face was hidden by a white mask, the only part that Hermione could make out were his lips, blonde hair, and the most captivating eyes she had ever seen. His eyes, they were light blue, almost grey, and if you peered deep enough, there were flicks of white within the iris. He had on a black tuxedo with penguin flaps donning the back, accompanied by a black undershirt and tie.

With one final spin he led her out of the grand ballroom and into the cool night air. They were on a small side patio that consisted of two small stone benches and evenly trimmed, perfect green hedges that blocked the beautiful terrace, and those within it, from wondering eyes.

He held her close, frozen in the same tango-like position as before, staring into two light brown, almost caramel, eyes. Her face was hidden by a black and white disguise that only succeeded in covering her eyes and half of her forehead. He felt her chest rising and falling in quick movements, every time she would breathe in her breasts would slightly touch his chest; he could feel her breath coming from her mouth, short puffs of mint smelling heaven coming from her slightly parted lips. He stepped back into a low bow, taking in her appearance as he made his way down.

Her hair was pinned half up and entirely out of her face, with auburn curls flowing like a waterfall down her back. Her white dress suggested pureness, as did the design. Two thick straps, one over each shoulder, led down to a perfectly cut square neck line that ended just above her breasts. Her cleavage only visible from directly above her, which was where he wanted to be, holding her against him again, towering over her petite frame as they danced and made on lookers envious of the way they moved. The torso of the dress hugged her slender frame well, but still left enough for ones imagination to run wild. The skirt of the dress began flaring out slighting at her hips and his eyes followed the piece down to the floor, where it barely skimmed the grey pavement on which they stood.

As he was coming out of the bow, his right hand palmed his mask and he slowly slid it off of his face.

Hermione stared at the man in front of her. He had high cheek bones, platinum blonde hair, stunningly cool and gorgeous eyes, and he also had the misfortune of having the name: Draco Malfoy. He took one step towards her, and another, and enclosed the air between them; they were so close that if she were to close her eyes, her eyelashes might graze his cheek; yet their bodies were perfectly aligned, from their feet to their shoulders, without touching at all. His hands ghosted out of nowhere and his pale fingers wrapped around the sides of her eye mask. She quickly drew back, taking one step and then almost succeeding in turning before she was stopped by his masculine body lightly pressed up against her own. He cupped her cheek with his right hand and bent down to her right ear.

"Are you afraid?" he whispered, his voice husky. She shuddered, unsure of where to place her hands, so she left them at her sides. He was breathing raggedly into her ear; she closed her eyes and breathed in deep. He stroked his thumb across her cheek, down to her jaw line, and then across her lips. He groaned into her ear as she parted her lips instinctually. He took his hand away from her cheek and let it drop down to her waist where it rested on her hip perfectly, as if they were two parts of a puzzle pieced together. She swallowed hard, opening her eyes to see light blue ones looking back into her own.

"No," she whispered, barely audible over the instrumental music coming from inside the double doors. "This was a mistake." She grasped his arm on her waist, and gently removed it from her side. With one last glance and a crack, she was gone. Draco Malfoy was left there, staring at the hedges behind him. He felt the loss of her already, nobody had moved the way she had with him, gracefully and instep. They had danced for almost the entire night and laughed over dinner and wine. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; her soft scent still lingered in the air. Somewhere in the distance a clock chimed and he was immediately drawn out of his reverie. He turned, as was gone as well.

A YEAR LATER

"Hello ma'am, I would like a table for one please." Hermione said to the elderly waitress.

"Oh, we are busy, very busy," she said in her thick Chinese accent, "I will sit you with," she looked around the waiting room, her eyes scanning every individual in there, her finger following suit, "this young man, please come with me the pair of you." The old woman grabbed two menus and took off towards a booth that was big enough for four people.

She was about to turn to see who this 'young man' was, when she felt a hand on her lower back, she looked up and her eyes met cool blue ones. She stepped away from him and shook her head. He was looking at her with his infamous smirk looming on his lips.

"Come on you two!" Hermione turned to look at the Chinese woman frantically waving them over to the booth. Before she could turn her head back, Malfoy had his hand on her lower back again, and was guiding her towards the booth. His cool, captivating smell was still the same as it had been the night of the masquerade and she breathed it in deeply; her body shuddering from memories of the wonderful evening she had spent with him.

She gave the elderly lady her order and handed her the menu; Draco did the same. She felt his knee brush up against her own; she drew in a sharp breath and tucked her feet quickly underneath her so that their knees wouldn't touch again.

He smirked at her, amusement visible in his cool colored eyes. He made to place his hands on hers when Hermione saw this and quickly withdrew them from the table and folded them neatly in her lap. "Very on edge I see. Have you been sleeping enough lately? You could always come back to my palace for a lay down if you wish," he said it as if they were friends, but Hermione took it as a suggestive attempt at a come-on. Did he really say palace? That arrogant ferret, he's trying to shove the fact that he is insanely rich in my face.

"I'm fine thanks. I'm actually going over to my boyfriend's house after this." She said, grabbing the salt and placing it in front of her. He gawked at her; his mouth hanging open and eyes wide, he placed his hand over his heart in mock surprise.

"Now really, who would have thought that Granger would have found a significant other before myself? I mean, come on, I'm devastatingly handsome, I have a charm with the ladies, and I'm great in bed, but yet I'm single and you're not. " He finished, his index finger on his chin, his eyes looking up to ceiling as if in wonder. Hermione sat there staring at him, fists clenched and eyes ready to bug out of their sockets. Was he mocking her?

"For your information, Malfoy, maybe you don't have a lady in your life because you're an insufferable, arrogant, twat!" she practically spat the last word out at him. Her lips were pursed into two thin lines, and her hand gripped her wand just under the table. "This was a mistake," she whispered, sliding her wand into her pocket and already half way out of the booth.

"Wait, please don't leave, I was only joking." He said, grabbing her hand before she could slide completely out of the booth. He locked his legs around hers, he had her trapped. She was breathing heavily and pink in the face. They looked intently at one another, as if in a staring contest. He squeezed his legs tighter around hers, hooking his ankles around the back of her own. She gasped and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but to no avail. She sighed and shrunk down into her seat.

"Let go of me," she proclaimed in an almost pleading voice. His eyebrows came together in confusion as he untangled his legs from hers and let his hand travel slowly down her own petite, cream colored hand; his thumb lightly caressing her knuckles, before grasping her hand and bringing it up to his lips. She drew in a breath and watched him plant a kiss on her hand; well if you could call it a kiss; his lips barely grazed the surface of her skin. She stared at the spot where he had kissed her as he slowly let go. She hastily stood up, practically running out of the café.

Malfoy sat there watching her retreating figure with a look of indifference on his face. Maybe we should just have another masquerade, and then she might be civil towards me when she thinks I don't know whom she is. He started chuckling at the thought. The waitress came over with their food and the check. Draco stood up, threw a 20 pound note onto the table and took off out of the restaurant smirking.

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Short chapter, I know, I just wanted to see the kind of responses that I get from the default chapter before I began posting more of them.

So if you want more than you should probably review.