Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

A/N: Tumblr drabble prompt: "Don't look at me like that." "Like what?" "Like you still love me." Angsty Romione w/ a happy ending!

It's Always Been You

"Come and dance."

Hermione skeptically eyed Ron's waiting hand. "Ron…"

"Come on, Hermione. It's just one dance. Are you that afraid to be close to me?"

Hermione surveyed the crowd around them at Harry and Ginny's wedding — no one was paying them any mind, but she couldn't shake the anxious feeling she had just from Ron's deep ocean eyes boring into hers.

"Yes."

"Please," Ron implored on earnestly, and Hermione knew her fight was weakening.

She timidly placed her hand in his, and one corner of his lips curved into a sly smile. He guided them both out onto the dance floor, weaving their bodies through several other couples before finding an open spot. Ron turned towards her and placed one of his hands on the small of her back, joining his other hand with hers and resting them on his chest. Instinctively, Hermione's remaining hand curled around to the nape of his neck.

They started to sway slowly in a familiar rhythm with the rich, melodic sound of the soft music playing in the background.

"Do you want to move a bit closer?" Ron whispered, and a shiver ran down her spine. She barely registered him gently pushing in on her back before her heels started shuffling towards him.

They were close enough now that Hermione could feel Ron's breath hot on her cheek, and she resisted the urge to lay her head on his shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that," she pleaded, deeply intimated by Ron's intense gaze.

"Like what?"

"Like you still love me."

Ron blinked back at her, a flash of surprise crossing his face before his eyes narrowed. "So what if I do?"

Hermione audibly gasped, swallowing roughly. "You can't."

"Why not?" He retorted immediately, like he was asking the simplest question in the world.

"We didn't work."

"We didn't work, or you didn't want us to work?"

Hermione's jaw tightened, silently scolding herself for bringing up such a topic during a vulnerable, very public, moment. "We let each other go."

"Then what are we doing, still holding on to each other, right now?" He squeezed her hand tighter to make a point, and Hermione was losing her ability to think logically.

"It...it was a figure of speech."

"No, it wasn't and you bloody well know it."

"Ron, don't take advantage of a girl in a weak moment," Hermione sighed, turning her head so that he couldn't see her tears.

He knew her well enough to see right through her facade, and he hooked a finger under her chin to study her face. Hermione found herself waiting for Ron's next words, a flutter of nervous anticipation in her stomach.

"If you're weak, then I'm weak too, Hermione."

Hermione let out a choked laugh, allowing him to brush a stray tear away from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Hell if I have any answers," Ron chuckled briefly before his gaze darkened again. "But, I let you walk out of my life once already, Hermione. I'm not willing to do it again."

"I want to believe you." She was terrified — absolutely terrified at the prospect of losing him for a second time. She felt tortured between her head and her heart. And her heart was ready to take flight.

"Then say you do. Say you'll never be with another bloke again. Just me. Only me."

His words lit a fire underneath her skin, a fire that she had convinced herself burned out a long time ago. Hermione was just now realizing that it hadn't — not by a long shot.

"Haven't you figured it out by now, Ron? It is you. It's always been you."

The warmth of Ron's smile radiated through her, and suddenly he was pressing his forehead gently to hers. They had stopped swaying a long time ago, without a care as to who was watching.

"We're really going to do it this time?" His whispered breath tickled her nose.

Hermione let her fingertips glide across his freckled skin, feeling the soft ginger hairs that prickled up on his bare arms until she reached his rolled-up sleeves. She gripped onto his elbows tightly with her eyes closed. "Yeah, we really are."

"Cause we can't ever go back. I swear Hermione, if you decide two days from now that you don't want this, I'm not sure I could physically or mentally handle it…"

Hermione reached up to cup his cheek, instantly washing away the cloud of doubt that was etched across his face. "Ron. I want this. I'm not going anywhere. I wouldn't have gone anywhere a year ago if I had known…"

"We know now." Ron's gaze traced a pattern around her face, and her heart ached to smash her lips against his. She needed to feel him again, to feel that this was all real and not just another bout of wishful thinking.

"We do," she confirmed, not bothering to hide the urgency in her tone.

"We've come a long way since the day we met on the Hogwarts train."

"We have, haven't we?"

"I don't have any dirt on my nose right now, do I?" He teased.

Hermione giggled in disbelief, "I can't believe you remember that."

"Of course I do. It was the first thing you ever nagged me about."

"I don't nag!" She playfully hit him on the arm.

Ron caught her hand and intertwined their fingers. "It's adorable whenever I catch you fibbing."

His cheeky retort elicited an exasperated eye roll from Hermione. "How romantic."

His laughing stopped, and his expression grew serious, making Hermione's heart catch in her throat. "Am I mental to say that I don't want you to ever stop nagging me?"

"What makes you say that?"

"If you stop nagging me, that means we're not us anymore. And I don't want that. I've never wanted that."

Now that was probably the most romantic statement he had ever made to her. Her heart swelled up with happiness. "Ronald Weasley, I promise to never stop nagging you for the rest of my life."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Hermione Granger."

And as his lips gently found hers for the first time in over a year, she knew he meant it — in more ways than one.