The shore spread itself long and wide, eagerly inviting the aquamarine waves to lap at the white sand. Ginny reclined on a low chaise not far from the water and gazed past the leafy palm fronds into the cloudless sky before she closed her eyes. The air was palpable, warm and thick with humidity, ocean salt, and verdant jungle smells.
"I do love you in green."
Ginny snapped to attention. Draco was standing over her, arms folded sternly, but the smirk on his face was anything but.
She scowled. "I don't understand what's so awful about a regular bathing suit," she muttered, flipping her sunglasses down over her eyes.
"Ohhh," he breathed sarcastically, as though humoring a petulant child. He sat down alongside her on the chaise. "But I like skimpy bikinis. They mean I can do this," he said, and ran his fingers from her neck, over her barely-there top, and all the way down to her navel. He splayed his hand possessively over her stomach, and despite the hot day, she shivered, stifling the temptation to pull away—there was no need to repeat that lesson.
Lifting her sunglasses from her face and tossing them onto the sand, he whispered, "Don't you dare hide from me, Ginevra. You ought to know I'm smarter than that by now."
He unbuttoned his white shirt, and the loose linen blew around his torso in the breeze that eked its way through the humid air.
"And skimpy bikinis make this so much better," he said quietly, and leaned down over her, letting his bare skin drag against hers as he brought his mouth gently to hers, kissing her slowly, After a moment, he brought his hand under her head and lifted it from the chair, scooping her up to deepen the kiss. This time, he was leisurely in his exploration, and against her better judgment, Ginny kissed him back.
He finally pulled away, and Ginny realized that they were both breathing heavily—most certainly the fault of the exhausting weather. They stared at each other for a long moment, until she bit her lips and broke the silence.
"The paparazzi are back, aren't they?"
He sighed with a soft "mmhmm," and she frantically hid the sinking feeling in her stomach as he leaned down over her for another long, slow photo-op.
A/N: I know. This is a blatant Red Ember cookie. I didn't intend it that way, but I was stuck on the holiday at the beach idea, and by the time this was half written, I realized that I was essentially writing my Red Ember characters. This will definitely make more sense if you're familiar with the story, though I like to think it stands alone fairly well. Fairly.
Besides, this was written for the 100 Drabbles in 100 Days challenge, and may or may not make its way into the actual story. All's fair in drabbles and forced island vacations, right?