Aca-demic Arrangements
Chapter 25
By the end of her shift, Hermione was positively wiped. She was certain she'd ingested enough espresso over the last sixteen hours that her blood had effectively been replaced by the caffeinated liquid itself and she was still completely knackered. Her lids were drooping as she swiped the counter one last time with a cleaning rag before tossing it in a bucket and calling her day "done." Hermione barely had enough energy to tug off her cap and apron, tossing them in the back room with several very vulgar expressions of wanting them nowhere near her until her next shift. So caught in her sluggish and hazy daze was she that she managed to be startled when she shuffled across the shop's threshold and spotted Tom sitting outside on the hood of his car looking as patient as she'd ever seen him.
"Rickle," she chirped in surprise. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed, slid off his car, and flashed her a smirk that went straight to her thighs.
Tom didn't appear to catch the involuntary shiver that ran through her as he was more focused on closing the gap between them to pluck the ratty and shoddily repaired backpack of hers off her shoulder. "Picking you up."
"Huh?"
Hermione still looked puzzled all the way up until he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a familiar and perhaps too comfortable fashion. They were so much softer than she'd ever expected a man like him, so full of hard, sharp angles from head to toe, to be. She felt the fingers of his free hand slip into her mop of barely contained and sweaty curls with a touch that clearly cared very little at her state of "uck" by the firm way he tugged her closer. She knew she was filthy, she probably stank to high heaven of coffee and sweet, sticky syrups and pastries, and she was positive that she still tasted of the bitter dark roast she'd been chugging for the entirety of her shift.
Apparently, Tom gave an exact number of "zero fucks" about any of it.
That subtle ache from before throbbed and sent another shiver through her limbs ending in a wistful exhale as she melted into his kiss. His tongue tickled across the cushion of her lip until she'd opened for him and he teased the inside of it as well. While she was certain she tasted dreadful, he was all delicious spearmint and heat that she swallowed down and it warmed her completely from the inside out. Her arms had come up to loop around his neck at some point long enough ago to where she was then slipping them down his body. Her fingers trailed down his neck, over shoulders that were so deliciously broad, especially next to her own, and down his…completely sleeve covered arms?
Even in her groggy snog-drunk state, she recognized the oddity of his attire and Hermione pried herself from his mouth with a soft hum of satisfaction. She tamped down on the grin trying to surface at the disgruntled noise that escaped him when she tugged free of his nibbling. "Do you always dress so prettily when picking people up?" she teased breathlessly, tugging at the cuff of his button down shirt that was decidedly not rolled up to his elbow.
Tom's cheeks heated but the color was thankfully hard to notice in the low street lighting outside the shop. "Only for birds that know precisely all the ways to ruin the mood," he huffed before ushering her toward the passenger side of his vehicle. "It's cold enough for it." His grouchy mutter was half hidden behind the door that he was now holding open.
Hermione blinked oddly, first at Tom then the door then back at him, his scowl, and his expectant look. Her brain fuzzed from the extra long day at work, Hermione shook her head and made her way to hop into the passenger seat. She managed a tired smile up at him from inside as she fastened herself into the seat and said cheekily, "It's really not, but I'll pretend you're not trying to impress me if you'd like."
Tom slammed the door shut in her still smirking face, loaded her bag into the trunk, and came back to the driver's side with the tight lipped, unamused expression she was much more used to seeing. Hermione let the quiet hang between them for several minutes without attempting to breach it until she realized there was something else, something different hanging there with it.
Hermione frowned when she sensed it and eventually turned in her seat to get a clear look at Tom's profile as he drove them home. His jaw was tensed and his brow so furrowed that she got the idea that she'd actually insulted him. Without thinking, the words slipped out of her. "I'm sorry," she said.
They both looked surprised – him from the loudness in the otherwise tense silence of his car and her from the fact that she'd apologized for something.
Hermione dragged the edge of her lip between her teeth and added hastily, "I'd forgotten. About you picking me up, I mean." When he didn't respond she shrugged and huddled further into the cushions. "The day's been a bit of a blur." And then, "…I like the sleeves. They're…different."
That made Tom's mouth twitch into a smirk. He didn't turn to face her but did spare her a glance from the corner of his eye. "Blaise would be so disappointed in you."
It took her a second to understand what he was referring to until she had to fiddle with the seatbelt strap to shove it back down her arm to keep it from sliding into the side of her head again. Hermione looked at her sideways sitting and rearranged herself to face forward with a snort. "Yes, well, Blaise can go eat a dick."
"Oh, he does, I'm sure. It's sort of his thing."
Hermione guffawed at his succinct delivery and just like that, that uneasy tension dissipated and the rest of the drive home was filled with more than a handful of Hermione's strange customer stories from the day.
A/N: Hi all! Just a little short fluffy bit for this today. I figured since it's been a while, why the hell not?