Disclaimer: Harry Potter, sadly, does not belong to me. And neither does the song In For The Kill by La Roux. Oh well, maybe next time.


"We can fight our desires."

My voice came out in a whisper. It was barely audible to my ears, let alone his.

"No. We can't." His voice said ringing out in the small space where we had chosen to meet.

His voice was strong and loud and crystal clear. And I was surprised at how angry he was at what I'd said.

"If we could fight our desires, Rose," he said, leaning forwards to bring his lips closer to my ear, "We wouldn't be meeting like this every other night now, would we?"

I didn't move a muscle knowing that he was right.

He was always right, Scorpius Malfoy.

It was hard wired into his system like a genetic mutation that worked to his advantage.

I pressed my body against his, feeling a fire ignite deep within my core. It was overwhelming, and this was only the beginning.

"Rose," he whispered into my hair, "this situation, it always happens, whether we like or not."

I heard a moan escape from the back of my throat, causing him the push me firmly against the wall of the closet we had locked ourselves in. It was the exactly what we both wanted.

"And I trust it will happen again, Scorpius?"

My voice sounded hoarse, and was filled with lust.

It was only then that I remembered over hearing my mother once tell my Aunt Ginny something she'd once overheard. She said that 'people say we can love who we trust, but what is love without lust?' and I'd never once understood it.

Until now, that was.

I might not trust the blonde bastard who had his hands up my skirt, but I needed him. I essentially lusted after him because I bloody loved him.

I wouldn't tell him that though. Not verbally, anyway.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, trying to steady my breathing. It was working, until I felt his lips touch the hollow in my throat, and I gasped in pleasure.

We were just two hearts with the same devotions.

We both wanted passion, and fury. We wanted feeling and emotions.

"Scorpius," I moaned as his warm tongue moved slowly along my neck, "I... Please... Oh Merlin..."

Usually, I could form a complete sentence that made sense without even thinking about it, or be able to answer a question before the person asking it was finished.

Right now though, I was stumbling over my words before I'd even started to speak.

All I can do is hope that my next actions convey everything that I feel.

It's almost although when we're not together, it's like there is a distance between us. It almost feels although we're miles apart, and that the distance spans continents and oceans.

But when we are in this position, where I'm pushed against a stone wall with my skirt around my hips and my legs locked around his back, it's like there is a connection between us.

I feel like a bridge has been put up, and those miles don't seem so far, and I feel like we're in touching distance of each other.

So I can't help but use my hand to pull his face towards mine, and with all my force, use my lips to send him the emotions that my words can't.

And he knows what I'm trying to say, because within seconds my hips are rolling against his in that perfect rhythm that I can't get with anyone else. A rhythm I can only ever get with him.

It's although every single time it happens, it's like I'm going in for the kill, and I know he feels exactly the same.

I know that the thrill I get from him is only something that he can understand, because I know he gets the same thrill from me.

He makes me feel like I'm on fire. It feels like I'm burning from the inside out, and my screams are not from pain, but from the indescribable pleasure that he causes me.

And before I know it, it's the beginning of the end. And it ends the same way that it always does.

His hand creeps up from my thigh, and slides into my hand, where our palms press together and our intertwined fingers lock into each other perfectly. And as the fire begins to burn out, we grip each other until we're left with the warm embers and the happiness they bring.

And when I look back, this predicament was almost inevitable because him and I have to war with each other, and fight in class, and scream in each other's faces, so that we can make peace with each other, like this.

And we have to act cold towards each other, just so that we can feel the heat from the fire that only he and I can make together.

And I just hope that he understands it all as I do, and that he doesn't let go of my hand.