"You are disgusting and I hate you …" the soft feminine voice spoke, barely above a whisper as the hatred in her eyes seemed to glaze over with another emotion, that of pity. The chocolate brown eyes stared into his steely grey eyes as they glared back at her. Pushing his body away from hers, he advanced upon her slowly. "You haven't changed one bit ..." the smirk slowly spread across his flawless face, placing his hand to her cheek gently.
"You couldn't hate me if you tried" his hand remained upon her cheek, his voice matching her tone, placing his lips to her neck lightly, he advanced until their bodies were merely an inch away, breathing lightly on the skin, very lightly. Three years and he hadn't changed one bit, his charm and determination were still running strong, she was still the same pain in the ass; but he found himself irrevocably drawn to her. Hermione's eyes slowly closed at the touch of his lips, placing her hands to his chest to push away slightly. Reluctantly feeling his lips part from her neck the shivers shot down her spine instantaneously.
"I loathe you …" she spoke slightly stronger, the sharp tone of her words slowly passed her lips, steadying her breathing inconspicuously; she couldn't allow him the satisfaction. Despite her best efforts, her chest wouldn't follow her plan; the raise and then fall of her chest only seemed to boost his ego as he stepped closer towards her. Ronald. Think of the future, marrying this boy, having children together –
"Oh, really? Then why are you struggling to catch your breath?" placing his soft lips to her neck again, he didn't once feel a stab of remorse. For three years Ron had Hermione, not that he deserved her. His act of kindness had paid off; he had her exactly where he wanted her. His muscular hands placed to her waist. She couldn't answer; his touch had stolen her breath, taken away her voice and her self control. This burning feeling in her stomach didn't seem to fade, but it wasn't hatred, it wasn't pity … it wasn't like anything she'd ever felt before.
"I love Ron, Malfoy … Ronald. You're nothing compared to him" the spite in her voice conveyed the burning desire throughout her tiny frame to push him away and stop herself from falling into his trap.
"He's a boy, Granger. He doesn't know how to touch a woman, how to … love a woman" placing one hand to her jaw line, moving closer towards her body, the little black dress she'd worn tonight was certainly flattering, she may not have known his intentions but he certainly knew where he wanted her. "Why did you come here tonight, if not to taste what you could have had?" the quiet voice echoed in her mind. What she could have had was right there; effortlessly he could read her mind. His touch was making her body tense up with anticipation. She was playing with fire, and she would get burnt, but if the scar from the burn would remain as beautiful as this boy before her then it was worth it.
"You're playing with me …" she whimpered, he was playing her like a game, and she could see her ship sinking, sinking into the very plan he'd wanted all along. Her small pale hands placed to his waist as she closed her eyes tightly. She was losing this battle … she'd lost Ron's trust the very moment she agreed to meet him here. "What do you want?" she asked helplessly.
"Don't speak …" touching her lips with his fingertips faintly, his hands held tightly to her body. This was sure to top off the perfect evening. She was in his trap now, Ron was oblivious to his lustful intentions the very he found himself in love with … he wasn't sure what was more exciting: knowing how much they both wanted this or the fact that Ron's heart would surely break in two. "Come on …" his smirk had melted into a naturalistic smile.