Wow it has been so very long, hasn't it? In case you don't already know I had stopped alternating between my chapter stories, and decided to concentrate on one at a time. I just finished Bed of Roses, so now I am pleased to pick up Look at Me!

Thank you all so much for sticking with this story! I know some people have told me it's their favorite, and that warms my heart because this is truly my favorite story to write right now. Thank you for your reviews and messages, kicking me in the arse to get going again. I really appreciate the motivation! And to KariAnn1222 who really stuck it to me today and gave me that final kick to update. Fanfic Mama does it again! Love you, girl.

I would also like to thank ykickamoocow for the inspiration and insight into these characters. Very much appreciated!

This chapter takes place in Deathly Hallows, Chapter 15, Goblin's Revenge

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Look at Me

Chapter 14

Lately things have been, for lack of a better term, total shit. It feels like we've been on this hunt (if you can call it that) for months instead of weeks. The food situation hasn't gotten any better, and the tension in that bloody tent is reaching a point where one of us might strangle the other. And if I have to listen to those two talk about these fucking Horcruxes one more time... I mean, yeah, I know it's why we're out here: searching for 'em. But fucking hell!

And it's never anything new, is it? Always the same places being mentioned and then shot down, one after the other. And Harry, with that bleeding vision he had, with that blonde bloke, which might mean something, yet nothing at the same time, and is of no use to us whatsoever...

Then there's Hermione, and her clicking tongue, disapproving every damn word I say; her looks telling me to shut it everytime I bring up the fact that we're all starved. Right, but it's perfectly okay for Harry to prattle on about visions, orphanages and almost saying You-Know-Who's name left, right and center?

And this whole 'let's put things on hold for now' rubbish is doing my head in. I didn't know she meant everything, for fuck's sake! Even snogging is off the table, as long as we have this effing locket hanging over us.

I've left Harry on watch to follow after Hermione, who had left in a huff fifteen minutes ago after a row between us about mushrooms. When I come upon a clearing in the woods I see her sitting on the ground with her back against a tree, arms wrapped around bent legs. The locket glints brightly for a moment against the low sun as it's rested atop the front of her jumper. I scowl, resenting the fact that she has to wear it, and sad that she feels that she has to hide from me, and take the brunt of its abuse alone.

And now it's my turn, and as much as I hate it, I don't mind, really; Better me than her, I reckon. I take in a deep breath and walk towards her, purposefully stepping on a twig, snapping it loudly under my overgrown foot, to let her know that I'm there. She jumps to her feet, and her wand is pointed at me as I emerge into the small clearing.

"It's only me," I say with my hands raised, palms faced forward in surrender.

"Ron, you scared me," she breathes out in a sigh of relief and, after glancing furtively around us, pockets her wand and bends over to retrieve the meager stack of wood she had set out to collect after lunch (if you could call the mush that we ate lunch).

"Sorry, I tried not to scare you. Here, I'll take 'em," I say nicely, even though she looks about a second away from hexing something. She seems surprised by my chivalry, but hands the pile over to me anyway.

"They're wet," she says edgily, avoiding my eyes, and wipes her hands clean on her jeans.

"No bother, we'll just use a drying charm," I say with a shrug.

"Right! A drying charm!" she palms her forehead, then says angrily, to herself more than to me, "Why didn't I think of that? Waste of time..."

"Hermione, it's not a big deal. Besides, they're only twigs," I say, quirking my brow at her as she glares at me. What the hell did I do now? "Bloody hell, what's the matter with you today?"

xxxxx

What's the matter? How can he even ask me that question? He knows full well what is the matter! Also, did I not tell him I wanted to be alone? Can he not follow simple instructions? No, of course not; he's Ron, after all. He does, and says, whatever the hell pleases him, doesn't he?

"What do you think is the matter?"

"Fucking hell, Hermione. You don't have to be such a-"

I stalk up to him, so close that I almost break my neck to glare up at him. Why does he have to be so damn tall?

"Exactly how am I being, Ronald?"

His nostrils flare, and his cheeks redden at my use of his given name, something I know he despises. He's been moaning and groaning, going on for days on end, about our meager supply of food, and making me feel like rubbish for doing what I can with what I am given. All he's managed is be a pain in the arse, and hurt my feelings by acting as if the kitchen is my only proper place...

Sod it, I don't need this.

"Oh, forget it," I say when his lips remain tightly pressed together. I snort and turn to leave, but he drops the wet sticks to the ground and catches my wrist, pulling me flush against his chest. I dare not look at him as I'm still so angry, but I can feel his ragged breath on my hair, and his hand still wrapped tightly around my wrist, his thumb hard against my protruding bone. I'm staring at the front of his jumper and can see his chest rising and falling, and I can smell him...

"Hermione... Can't we ever talk without tearing into each other for once?"

"I dunno, you tell me." I sound so cold and angry, and I'm taken aback by my tone. I bite my tongue and close my eyes, taking in deep breaths, and use his familiar scent to dispel the negative energy coursing through my veins. I nod and he lets go of my wrist, trusting me not to flee. And I won't. I can't.

His hands are on my neck as he lifts the chain holding the locket over my head, and drops it down around his own neck. The pendant is trapped between our bodies and I can feel it shake and shudder, as if happy to have been switched to a new host.

"I hate this," I whisper, rubbing my forehead against his chest.

"I get it, Hermione."

"I know you do," I say and back away from him, a chill running down my spine from still being in the vicinity of the Horcrux. I look and he's gazing at me so intently that the chill from the Horcrux is nothing compared to the shivers that I feel running through my fingers and toes. His look is feral, almost. Hungry. I can't look away.

"Ron, I don't-"

Before I can finish he's upon me; the palms of his large hands are on my face, pressing in on my cheekbones. And his lips are on mine, crushing, flattening them against the fronts of my teeth and gums. I try to speak, but I can't because he's sucking the air from my lungs as his tongue delves into my mouth, probing and so, so hungry.

He pivots his head and slides his body closer to mine, ignoring my surprised grunt and my hands that are gripping his upper arms so tightly I may poke holes through his jumper. And through our layers of clothing I can feel the muscles in his arms and chest twitch, and the locket, which is pressed between our chests, is a slice of cold in the already bitter weather of early Autumn

In all the months we've been together Ron has never kissed me this way. It isn't full of passion, nor is it backed by a desperation, like the last time we were this close. Somehow I can't pinpoint what it is exactly that is driving him to react to me this way. And the confusion is both thrilling and frightening all at once.

XXXXX

I have to have her. Now. I can't wait any longer. She's so fucking beautiful when she's angry, and then looking so damn vulnerable, and I can't help but give in to the urge to touch her, to taste her fucking mouth, her saliva. I run my tongue roughly across her back teeth, and she whimpers, and I grind my cock into her lower stomach. She's holding me so fucking tight, and a mental part of me is hoping that later there'll be bruising along my arms, the size of her small fingertips, black and blue against my freckled pale skin.

I'm holding her face, and my thumbs swipe the undersides of her eyes and travel to her hairline above her ears, and she trembles. Fucking hell.

I buck my hips, harder this time, and she makes a throaty noise that, if I were to let her mouth go, would probably be a cry of surprise or indignation. I don't give her the chance. I'm pulling her in by her waist and feel the smooth skin of her back, squeezing and pinching, making her jump and gasp in my arms.

Her hands are suddenly in my hair, pulling me down until my neck feels like it's going to snap. But I don't let go when she tries to pull away. I need to have more of her; This want, it doesn't feel negotiable, and the fact that she's kissing me back is making it so much more bloody difficult to stop.

I stagger forward, and my aim is dead on when her back hits the bark of the tree trunk, and she screams in her throat, and her hands smack my shoulders. I grab her hips and lift her easily; she's like a feather, this girl. Her legs instantly lock around my waist, and she's still kissing me; I can feel her tongue fighting with mine, and when I pull away long enough to grab her bottom lip between my teeth, she sucks in a sharp breath. Her tits rise with the sudden inhale, sliding up on my chest. I move my hands, that are still inside her jumper, around to her front, and squeeze her tits, hard. Then I bite down with my teeth, nipping her lip; Her eyes pop open, meeting mine as we're so damn close there isn't anything else to look at.

I let her swollen lip fall from my mouth and we stare at one another for a beat, and I can barely make out the chocolate brown of her eyes. She looks so fucking sexy, and her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are red, and her lips are wet and puffy... She takes in a shuddering breath and a growl erupts from within me, and I'm not sure where the fuck it came from. But it makes her shiver again, and she's panting for breath, and I can't fucking take it.

I take my hands off her bra-covered tits and, without looking away from her eyes, open the button to her jeans and pull down the zipper. I lean in close to her ear and whisper, as two of my long fingers slip underneath her knickers and into her wet folds...

"Don't tell me you don't want this, Hermione. Don't fucking tell me."

"I... I do. I just-"

I quickly find her opening and shove both fingers inside of her, up to my second knuckle. Her scream is loud in my ear, and her nails are digging into the flesh between the collar of my jumper and the chain of the locket.

I press my lips on her neck and suck, hard, as I start pumping my fingers in and out, slowly at first, but gathering speed with every second, and with every gasp that she makes.

"Tell me, Hermione," I mutter as I lift her up with my thighs under her arse, making her arch her back off the tree trunk to give me better access to the wet and fuck-hot folds that are pulsing around my fingers.

XXXXX

I can't think straight, and it's any wonder I am able to remain conscious. It must be the fact that Ron is pounding into me mercilessly with his long, thick fingers and blunt cut nails scraping me on the inside. I believe I counted two, no three of them, as his thumb has now joined the others, rubbing on my bundle of nerves, and making my head slam into the bark of the tree behind me.

And he asks me again, to tell him- Tell him what? I don't know. All I can do is hold onto him - his shoulders, his arms, his neck - anywhere I can gain leverage. It feels as if he is going in deeper, harder, faster. His mouth is still attached to my neck, and I struggle to take in a deep breath.

"Ron! Oh!"

My voice comes out shrilly and shaky at best, and screaming his name makes him groan, and swear, then he sucks on my earlobe. He's so far gone, and somewhere in the back of my mind I realise I had failed to take into account the locket currently hanging between us, and, in the heat of the moment, had forgotten the promise we had made not to do this, not while we are still in possession of something so wicked.

But those thoughts are fading quickly the faster his fingers move in and out of me. I can feel his erection through his trousers thrusting up against the middle of my bum, mimicking the pace of his hand.

"Come for me, Hermione. Fuck yes," he pants as his free hand, wrapped around my back, digs into my waist. And he growls, "You like that, yeah? You like it hard... "

And then his thumb presses down, hard, and I scream and buck my hips, over and over. Everything else in my mind is replaced by nothing but a swollen heartbeat, shaking me to the core, and with every beat of it I scream out in ecstasy.

"Oh god! Oh! Oh, yes! Yes! I'm cumming!"

"Fuck yea, Hermione. Fuck."

Finally, after regaining our breath, he removes his hand, and I shudder and gasp loudly, gripping his arms tightly. The front of his trousers are wet and sticky, and so are mine, and his fingers that he just slipped into his mouth.

Dear god...

XXX

Hermione's eyes widen as I suck her juices off of my fingers, and bloody hell does she taste brilliant. I let her legs drop to the ground and hold her against me, keeping her upright on wobbly legs.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask, now suddenly worried that I might have gone too far.

"Just a little," she says, and my heart is in my throat. "But it's a good kind of hurt, don't worry." She brushes hair from my eyes and smiles up at me, but I'm still worried that I did hurt her, physically, and had I not been so out of control...

I nod and watch as she adjusts her clothes, wincing a bit as she moves her hips.

"Hermione-"

"I'm fine, really," she says quickly, shaking her head, and I can tell something is bothering her because she's avoiding my eyes. The air is thick with awkwardness, and I can feel it: I've done something wrong. So what the fuck else is new, yeah?

"What is it, Hermione? Spit it out."

"It's nothing, Ron. What you did- it felt really great. Fantastic. Really."

"But?"

"Don't you remember? I told you before that we should wait to do anything. We lost our heads just now."

"Yeah, I remember," I say, with more bitterness than I had intended, and she looks at me with disbelief and indignation.

"You do realize," Hermione says hotly, and turns on me with her hands on her hips, "what we are doing out here, don't you?"

"Gathering twigs?" I shrug in a lame attempt at humor. She narrows her eyes at me. "Right. I'm a prat. Go on."

She spreads her arms out wide, then drops them to her sides, clearly frustrated, which is making me even more pisssed off. "We have to help Harry-"

"I know about Harry!" I yell and start pacing on the hard trodden dirt and grass. "Alright? I know about the Horcruxes, too, Hermione. I'm bleeding wearing one of 'em!"

I stop to face her, and lift the locket from my chest for emphasis.

"Ron," she says in a calm voice that doesn't match the swords in her eyes. "What exactly is your problem?"

"My problem is that he," I point in the direction of the tent and Harry, "doesn't know a bloody thing about shit."

"And neither do we! That's why we're here-"

"Admit it, Hermione. You thought Dumbledore had told Harry something. Something more than... this." I scowl down at the locket in utter distaste. "We left everything... Everyone," I say, more to myself than to her, and when I look up she has tears in her eyes.

"I know we did, Ron," she says softly as she approaches me. "And I agree, I really did think we would have more to go on at this point. I hadn't anticipated having to make do with so little information. I feel so unprepared."

"It's not your fault."

"And neither is it yours- nor is it Harry's."

Snap.

Voices- nearby. Too close.

Hermione and I look at each other in shock and stand still as statues. I raise a finger to my lips and point in the direction I came from. She nods. I take her hand, and lead her away from the approaching footsteps and muffled voices toward the tent as she erases our tracks with her wand behind us.

XXXXX

This isn't exactly where I wanted to leave things off for this chapter. I had intended to see this one through to when Ron leaves. However, I wanted to update before my mother comes into town as I'm not sure how much time I will have to write. In fact, I might have even more time to write, but I didn't want to take that chance. So next chapter will pick up where this one left off, and hopefully it won't be too long of a wait.

Thank you for reading and please review!

You can follow me for updates and shenanigans at Twitter: JesWithOneEss and Tumblr: mypatronusisacupcake. ( be warned, both include adult subject matter)

Also, Look at Me has been nominated in the Tumblr Romione Awards! Anxious, Permission Slip, I Want You, and And I Swear, are also nominated in different categories! Thank you all so much for reading, and to those who nominated my stories. And best of luck to my friends who have also been nominated. This is rather exciting! Voting being July 31st.

romioneawards . tumblr . com

Last note: I have started a new Tumblr blog that features MA-rated Romione stories written for the blog by the likes of myself, KariAnn1222, TMBlue, Iggity and other quality Romione fanfic authors. There are already fics posted that are smuttastically awesome! So go read some quality smut! And if you are a fanfic writer, and would like to contribute, I will be more than happy to read your work and have you write something for the blog! You may contact me at the above sites, or at the official Romione Smut blog, if interested:

romionesmut . tumblr . com