A/N: So, I'm finally back home after a long trip abroad. Sorry for the delay in posting these here! I'm back on track now, hopefully. Will be posting on Tuesdays here after today.
Prompt: "Christmas Present" by The Rocket Summer
Prompted by: remedial-potions
It took him way longer than it should have to figure out why his left arm was asleep. A warm weight was pressing down on him, the back of her body against the side of his, and it wasn't yet dawn. He'd never imagined it could feel so amazing just to wake up with her like this, but now that he'd done it, forgetting the circumstances, he wasn't sure how he'd ever go back. He would have to keep that bit of information to himself, he reckoned, as he was just going to have to figure out how to do it… and how to pull himself away from her to break into a fucking bank in a few hours.
He thought of how she'd appeared in the doorway several hours ago, nervously looking in on him where he was lying on top of his sleeping bag, on the floor. She hadn't spoken for a few moments, thinking he might be asleep, before she caught his open eyes staring up at her. Maybe it was knowing what was to come, how difficult and dangerous what they had planned would be. But he imagined it was something else, too, some sign that all their past was simply past, and they were running out of excuses to avoid the truth. He could never be sure, without the words, but he would gladly take any measure of comfort they could share, any closeness she would offer him.
He felt her inhale with surprised force, and then she reached up and touched the inside of his arm, surely not realising he was already awake.
"Hey," he whispered, knowing he would startle her but wanting, even more strongly, for her to look at him.
She jumped slightly and turned her head, but she still couldn't see him properly. Either way, he could spot the movement of her lips as she tentatively smiled.
"My arm's a bit asleep," he said, smiling back.
"Oh!" She sat up, quickly, too quick for him to stop her.
"It's fine," he said, hopeful, as he flexed his fist and shook it. "Come back?"
She stared at him, over her shoulder, expression morphing from shy and nervous to determined. She shifted around and laid back down, resting her head on his shoulder, facing him this time. Her slightly bent knees pressed against the side of his thigh. If he bent up his elbow, he could play with her hair, so he did it, forgetting to second guess.
He could hear Harry lightly snoring from across the room, and it was reassuring that he'd managed to get some sleep. They needed it, even though Ron was hypocritically glad that he'd woken up to be with her, like this, before-
She was staring at him, though he was having a hard time catching her eyes from her position. But then she sniffed and shifted up until her head was resting on the flat pillow, next to his. And, as he turned onto his side, toward her, he was momentarily caught off guard by how close their faces were. His arm was trapped underneath her neck, a long curl of her hair was twisted around his index finger, and she was smiling, so softly he could have missed it if he wasn't memorising every single detail of her face.
Not that he needed reminding. He'd burned the precise shape of her eyes, the curve of her jaw, the exact colour of pink of her lips into his mind, long ago.
She looked strangely peaceful, beneath that layer of nervous anticipation that he was sure she could see reflected right back at her. He'd wanted to kiss her approximately four thousand times before today, but, in that moment, he swore it was the strongest he'd felt it yet.
But then her expression changed completely, a gradual shift from present in the moment to apprehensive and uneasy. He knew it too well, that line that faded between distracted and drowning in reality.
"Do you really think we're ready for this?" she whispered, so softly.
But he didn't want to redraw the line, to remind them that happiness was only on the other side. He didn't know what he thought, honestly, about what they had planned, but he was ready to do it, either way. He knew she was, as well. So, he nodded, staring back at her with every single feeling he could possibly convey.
Sod the war. Sod Gringotts. They could be happy, anyway.
He lifted his hand to her cheek and made the monumental choice to fight a different war, right there, between the person he had been for so long and the one who only existed in his fantasies of their future together.
He swiped his thumb across her cheek, watched too closely as she breathed through parted lips, and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her fist found the hem of his shirt and clenched it tight, nails briefly scraping his skin.
When he finally backed away, tears were silently streaming down her face, but she was smiling. She lifted her hand to his cheek to match his, tilting her head so their foreheads met as she closed her eyes.
