Chapter 7
Hermione finds herself happy to have a couple weeks away from the game of golf after her disastrous finish at the British Open. It gives her time to regroup and put the tournament behind her the way her sports psychologist taught her back in her teenage years. It wasn't easy to learn to move on, she was a perfectionist after all, and she has always carried a fear that failure would expose her as a fraud, but eventually she'd gotten the techniques down.
The first few days after the tournament were spent at her parents house. She enjoyed the peace and quiet, and was happy to see Crookshanks and share dinner with her parents. She was also able to catch up on the reading she'd been neglecting because of a particular blonde she'd taken to spending more and more time with. She kept replaying the way Fleur had looked when she last saw her, and Hermione feels a little bad for not really giving her a chance to speak, but she thinks maybe it was for the best. This was never supposed to be about anything other than a physical release anyway.
Once she's back at her condo in the States she buries herself in practice and resolves to shut out the outside world. That resolve only lasts until the weekend when she finds herself watching the tournament taking place in Maryland on her t.v. She tells herself she is absolutely not watching it to see how Fleur is doing. It's Friday, and while Fleur started the day in 5th place, she's fallen back as the day has progressed. On the 18th hole she makes a critical error, hitting her ball into the water. Hermione covers her face with her hands for a moment, groaning out "Oh Fleur, what are you doing?" When the camera zooms in on her reaction Hermione can see all the frustration on her face.
Without even thinking she grabs her cell phone and types out a message.
Fleur plays a better round on Saturday, but things still aren't quite clicking. She feels distracted, though by what she can't pinpoint. She spends an hour on the driving range after her round is finished, trying to work the kinks out.
It's after dark by the time she finally gets back to the rental house, and though the lights being on in the house send a clear message someone is there, she would have sensed Hermione's presence even without the obvious sign. Her particular scent lingers in the air, and there's a feel to the house that Fleur only ever becomes aware of when Hermione is around.
When she got the text yesterday she was unsure whether Hermione would come or not. The message had only consisted of a request for the address of the house. Fleur had responded with the information, along with the security code, and that was the extent of their communication. She can't decide how she feels about Hermione's willingness to get on a plane and come here just to see her. There is no pretense to hide behind, and that terrifies Fleur.
She moves quietly through the house, finally finding Hermione in the bedroom sitting on the bed with her legs stretched out, back against the headboard, engrossed in a book. Fleur takes a moment to lean against the doorframe and just watch her before making her presence known. She wonders how she could have overlooked such obvious beauty for so many years. Most likely because she wasn't looking for it. She thinks perhaps she still shouldn't be looking for it. Pushing off the doorframe she enters the room, and Hermione finally notices her.
"Hey." she says quietly, closing her book and placing it on her lap. She doesn't say anything else, just holds eyes contact with Fleur as she moves closer.
Fleur finally responds back with a soft "Hey" of her own. She's standing next to the bed now, close enough to touch, but her and Hermione remain locked in a gentle stare down, their eyes doing the speaking for them. Eventually Fleur takes the book and places it on the night stand before crawling slowly onto the bed and swinging a leg over both of Hermione's, settling herself gently onto her lap. Their eyes stay locked for another minute until Fleur slowly leans down and captures Hermione's lips in a gentle kiss different than any kiss they've shared before. There is no frenzied urgency, no angry nips, or dueling tongues. This one is soft and raw and it starts an ache deep in Fleur's chest. She tells herself she can't want this, that after tonight she needs to remember she is not a relationship type person. Relationships only end in bitterness and anger and broken dreams. Her parents divorce had taught her that lesson all too well, leaving an indelible scar. Despite all that, she can not deny how absolutely right this moment feels, and she doesn't think she's strong enough to stop it from happening.
When Fleur pulls back for a moment Hermione can see the storm of emotions in her blue eyes. She thinks they probably mirror her own. She's still questioning herself for hopping on a plane to come here. Her actions are not practical, not well thought out, and yet everything in her is screaming that this is exactly where she needs to be right now. She slowly runs her hands up Fleur's shoulders and around her neck to pull her back into a kiss, tightly squeezing her eyes shut against the onslaught of her own emotions.
They go slow, taking their time with each other in a way they never have before. Considering how many times they've had sex there shouldn't be much left for them to learn about each other's bodies, and yet this feels like a completely new experience, filled with gentle touches and deep, slow kisses.
They have their foreheads pressed together, lips parted and inches apart, when Fleur enters her gently. With each soft stroke Hermione can feel her heart whispering words she could never possibly utter with her lips. It feels like being broken and remade in the same moment. Everything feels so very right and yet wrong, and when she comes with a soft cry there are tears held back behind her closed eyes.
Fleur feels Hermione come undone on a level that goes much deeper than physical. She thinks she may have come undone right along with her. She can not deny that part of her wants to stay in this moment, to just give in and believe in the magic of whatever they've just created, but she knows moments like this are fleeting, and come the morning she'll have to figure this all out on a non-emotional level.
They lie there for awhile, not talking or making eye contact, but instead just getting lost in soft skin and gentle caresses. Eventually Fleur moves to the other side of the bed, and when Hermione starts to rise she grabs her wrist, whispering "no, stay, please, just for tonight."
Hermione searches her eyes for a moment, eventually allowing herself to be persuaded, lying on her side to face Fleur. They watch each other for awhile before drifting off to sleep, hands entwined in the middle of the bed between them.
Fleur is gone when Hermione wakes in the morning, though she was expecting it. Sunday morning tournament tee times do not wait for anyone. It still leaves an empty feeling in her chest though. There's a note on the kitchen counter telling her to stay as late as she wants, that Fleur will be flying back home as soon as the tournament is over in the afternoon. Hermione knows right away that she can not linger, that the emotions of the previous night are already trying to catch up with her, so she calls a taxi and tries to ignore what her heart is so desperately trying to tell her.
"Well despite falling short in her run at winning today Fleur Delacour still put together one of the most impressive rounds I've seen her play in a long time, and that is saying something. She had the lowest round of the day, shooting a six under, but it was't enough to catch up to Santana Lopez, who will take home the trophy this week."
Fleur knows she should feel better about the way she played today, it really was a terrific round, but for some reason it doesn't feel as satisfying as it normally does. It is frustrating, and she feels like it might be time to get her head on straight again, perhaps remove the current distractions from her life. Although she suspects there is only one thing, or rather one person, who has become the distraction. She sighs to herself as she thinks about how much simpler everything was when she and Hermione still hated each other. A small voice in the back of her mind questions whether or not they really did hate each other to begin with, but she tries hard to silence it.
She exits the clubhouse at the same time Santana is entering. "Nice round there. Did you have a little visit from your good luck charm last night?" Santana has a smirk on her face, and Fleur really isn't in the mood to deal with any of this. She bumps shoulders with Santana as she walks by, not bothering to respond.
"What the hell Delacour? It was just a joke!" Santana calls after her, not understanding why her words elicited such a reaction. She has half a mind to follow Fleur to the parking lot and tell her to pull her head out of her ass when she feels a hand gently close over her wrist.
"Let her go sweetie," Brittany utters quietly so no one else can hear. "I think there's more going on than we know." Her eyes implore Santana to listen. Santana has never really been able to deny her anything, and her shoulders relax as she gives a nod of agreement.
"Fine, I've got better things to do anyway, like spend the night celebrating with a certain someone." Brittany's smile is knowing as she responds "Yeah you do."
