Heya… I had this sitting around in my files, and figured I'd upload it.  It's Harry/Hermione… um, I think.  I didn't actually mean make it het (I'm a die-hard slasher), but the pairing just kind of wove itself into what I was writing.  I'm also not sure whether the lust/like-age is one-sided or not, it's open to interpretation.  Let me know what you think, all reviews are appreciated.  (Title and inspiration from the Smashing Pumpkins song.)

- tpd    

. . .

He is all bent shoulders, hunched over his book with abysmal posture that he would call a casual slouch.  And his head drifts forward as sleep drifts in, and now that he isn't alert and focused, you feel like brushing his light, mint green shirt with your fingers.  Softly.  Because it looks soft and smooth and oh, yes, maybe you want to touch his skin for much the same reasons.

His eyes are hazed over with exhaustion, because he's been studying for hours for this last assignment, and you think maybe your assignment this time should be just to keep him awake, but you're too afraid to try.

But you study for that assignment anyway, even though he finally gives up and uses his book as a pillow.

He doesn't look less fragile in his sleep.

You know this because now he is yours to observe as you wish.  You've always heard that in sleep people are tormented, calm, young, old, or at least very different from how they normally appear.  But they must've been exaggerating.  He looks like your best friend, only asleep.

Now his inksplotched hair is fanned out a little on a smudged page of Hogwarts: A History and you're not sure if you're angry at him for wrinkling the book or not.   

Maybe not.

So you watch.

Yes, you're sure now.  In sleep he is no different than awake, he simply has his eyes closed.  You think you are relieved, because the sight of him in this so-called vulnerable state has not shifted your opinion of him at all.  This feeling is still simple.  Base.  Even if it hurts a little.

So you smile to yourself and force yourself to continue studying.  As soon as you see something interesting in the – what book was this again? – you unthinkingly reach over to nudge him awake.

He starts suddenly, eyes snapping open, and a befuddled expression crosses his face, before it is replaced by a gentle smile and slightly knowing look.  You're so busy trying to figure out what it is he thinks he knows, and so busy trying to keep your blush in check, that…

You don't even notice that you've lost your place.

. . .