Chapter 19
The night was winding down. Slow songs were playing; people were leaving. Ginny transferred a sleeping Ana to Hermione's arms to steal once last dance with her husband before they left for the night. Viktor had stayed at their table for the rest of the evening. Now Harry and Ginny were on the dance floor; she finally had a chance to talk to him alone.
"Viktor, I appreciate you trying to do something about Ron, but you didn't have to."
"Yes, I did haff to. Do you think I could vatch and do nothing?" She shook her head, looking at the table, not wanting to meet his eyes. He reached over and hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face toward his. His eyes looked so sad. "Tell me, svetlina, does that sort of thing happen often?"
How should she answer that? Ron had never offered to whore her out before, but he called her names. He'd only gotten physically rough with her once before, grabbing her wrist like he had tonight. She wondered if it would bruise this time; it hadn't before. She sighed; she knew she should be honest with Viktor, but she was embarrassed that she allowed it to continue.
"He's only gotten rough with me like that once, but he uses that sort of language with me quite a bit. He hasn't done it in public before, though." Her voice was quiet and serious. Viktor's eyes were burning, anger like black fire.
"Vhy do you stay?" His voice was rough and choked. The fury was thick in his words. She knew it was directed at Ron, but it still sent a chill through her.
"You know why I stay."
"Yes, but I cannot understand it. You are too smart to put up vith such abuse, especially vhen you haff better options." He paused, contemplating. "At least, I vould hope I offer a better option."
She smiled, and so did he. How sweet of him to joke, to try and make her feel better. Harry and Ginny came back to the table as the song ended. Harry collected the sleeping child and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to come home with us?"
"I'm sure. I'll just walk to a hotel."
"Want us to walk with you?"
"No, Ana will get heavy soon. I'll be fine."
"If she vishes, I vill escort her," Viktor added.
Harry nodded at him. "Thanks, man. Again, good game." After a few more goodbyes, they were gone. Viktor looked at Hermione, and she thought she saw something like hope glinting in his dark eyes. "Vould you like for me to valk vith you?"
"Izbor would be a very long walk," she answered. She wanted to go home with him tonight. She wanted his company, his arms, his kisses, and the quiet of Izbor. How strange, that after a lifetime in England, a town in Bulgaria felt more like home than anywhere else in the world?
Viktor's face lit up, pure joy radiating out from him. "Oh, Hermy-own-ninny…are you really coming home vith me?"
"If you don't mind, I would like to stay with you tonight." With those words, he faded. What had she said wrong? Probably the 'tonight' bit.
"You are velcome to sleep at my home tonight if you vish." His wording seemed off, somehow, she thought. He took her hand and they left the party, Apparating to his house. They went inside and settled on the couch, conversing casually. She didn't want this casual conversation; she wanted him tonight. As the talk faded away, she moved closer to him, needing him tonight, needing his proximity and his smile and his eyes and his love. They sat quietly, watching each other, until she turn, raising up onto her knees on the sofa, and kissed him. The kiss started soft and gentle. She ran her tongue across his bottom lip, and he sighed, reaching to pull her onto his lap. The kiss grew deeper and more forceful. He nibbled her lower lip, then broke to kiss beside her ear, moving down her neck slowly. Her hands began working on the buttons of his shirt, opening it so she could splay her fingers in the coarse, dark hairs sprinkled across his chest. She could feel him growing aroused when he pulled back and looked her directly in the eyes.
"Svetlina," he asked, voice quavering slightly, "are you staying just tonight, or are you staying vith me forever?"
"Viktor…"
"Just tell me, please. Are you really staying, or are you just seeking a…an…an interlude?"
She sighed. An interlude. That's exactly what she wanted tonight, because she couldn't stay, no matter how badly she wanted to. She didn't want to tell him right now, didn't want to see the pain in his eyes, slightly glazed with primitive male arousal. She wanted to steal this night, to feel what she'd wanted since she was fifteen. She leaned into him and planted a kiss where his neck and shoulder met. He shivered beneath her touch, turning her on. Breathily, needily, she whispered against his ear, "Does it really matter right now, Vitya?"
"Yes, it does. Please answer me."
"Can't we just have this night? Please?"
"Hermione, no. Ve cannot just haff this night. I cannot live vith just this night." His voice was sad, so sad, but growing more forceful. "I vant you; I am sure you can feel how badly. More than that, svetlina, I love you. I vant life vith you. I vill not settle for anything less than everything. If you cannot, or vill not, giff me that, then ve are not making love tonight. I vant to, desperately I vant to, because you are sveet and beautiful and everything I haff ever dreamed of. But if I cannot haff forever, I do not vant tonight."
Damn the man. How could he be so noble? She couldn't give him everything. She kissed him again, capturing his mouth, putting everything she felt into that kiss. Her arms went around him, underneath his shirt, and she felt his large hands cradling her against his body. He kissed her like she was air and he was drowning. When the kiss ended, Viktor released a shaking breath. "Are you trying to break my resolve?"
She grinned at him, and simply answered, "Yes."
He laughed a sweet laugh that touched her heart, such a masculine laugh that it made her toes curl. He stood, holding her in his arms, making her hopes soar. He carried her to his room, gently kicking open the door, taking her to his bed. He kissed her as he lay her down. Now, this kind of chivalry was more to her liking.
God, she was beautiful, and it was taking every ounce of self-preservation in Viktor's soul not to take her right now. She was in his arms and she wanted him, but he knew she'd be gone in the morning. But when she kissed him like that…Damn. He was only a man, after all.
But, Viktor told himself, after years of Quidditch, he was a man who was used to fighting for what he wanted instead of giving up easily, whether it was a Snitch or beautiful, stubborn-as-hell woman who was attempting to use him for his body. He just wished his body wasn't reacting quite so strongly. On second thought, maybe he could use it to his advantage.
He lay her on the bed, kissing her as she pulled him down to her body and ran her hands down his back and over his butt. Her legs were spread slightly and he was pressed against her. His mind was getting foggy and her sweet scent filled the air around him. He broke the kiss, pulling back to clear his head, and she arched her body against him. Well, if she wanted to tease, two could play that game, and damn it, he would win.
He raised his body up on his arms and smiled down at her, a lazy smile that, whether he realized it or not, screamed sex. Slowly he swung his legs off of the bed and stood, turning on the bedside lamp and turning off the overhead light. He moved to a drawer and pulled out a couple of things she couldn't see in the dim light, tossing them on top of the dresser. Viktor moved closer to the bed and shrugged his shirt off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her hungry eyes traced every move like he was a better-than-sex chocolate cake. Locking his eyes, dark, teasing eyes, with hers, he unfastened his belt, slipped it slowly through the loops, and dropped it to the floor. Her eyes broke the gaze and moved down his body, widening at the prominence of his arousal. He reached his hand down slowly and flicked open the button of his jeans. He leaned against the wall, causing the zipper to move down somewhat, and crossed his arms over his chest, showing his muscles to great effect. Now, as she stared at him, her eyes were full of a hot, desperate need, a desire too primitive for words.
"Do you vant this?" He asked, slowly, deeply, his voice husky. It was a voice meant for words spoken in the midst of passionate lovemaking.
"Yes, Vitya, yes, damn it, come here…" she answered, in a low, needy voice.
"How badly, Hermione?"
"If you don't come here right now, I think I may die from this need."
Voice sad and serious, he told her, "That is how I haff felt for years, for your love and everything that goes vith it. It vould take a lifetime to satisfy that need. That is vhy I cannot just giff you vone night; it vould only make it vorse. Imagine going through your whole life like that, feeling a need, an ache, that only vone other person can fill, and that person vill not be vith you. That is how my life feels."
He grabbed the clothes he'd tossed on the dresser and handed some of them to her. "I haff to haff a shower; put these on. You may sleep here alone, on the couch, or here vith me, but vhatever you decide, ve are still not haffing sex tonight." His voice lightened to gentle teasing as he told her, "You had better be vearing those vhen I come back."
Viktor went to the bathroom and locked the door behind him, half wanting to leave it unlocked and see if she would join him. He'd meant what he said, though, even if it was one of the hardest decisions he'd ever made. He would spend the rest of his life wanting more if he gave her this night. He didn't want to be a one-night stand for her. He didn't even want to be a long-term affair. He wanted to be the man she loved and came home to every night. He wanted to be her husband, or he wanted to be nothing but platonic friends. He doubted they would ever be capable of being just friends, and in that case, maybe being nothing would be better.
He stepped under the hot spray, turning his skin red, the way he liked it. His thoughts were tumbled, jumbled in his head. He wished the blood would come back soon so he could think clearly. Over the pounding shower, he heard a noise and stuck his head out of the curtain. The doorknob was rattling. Every blood cell that had returned to his brain immediately left.
Viktor sighed as a vision of her naked in the steam popped into his head once again, and he turned the hot water completely off.
How dare he do that! Hermione let go of the doorknob and retreated to his bedroom, fuming. He'd carried her to bed, started undressing for her, left her feeling weak and desperate and so damned aroused, and then handed her pajamas! Didn't he know how she felt?
Of course he does. That's what he was trying to tell you.
The voice in her head stopped her short. She sat on the edge of the bed, thinking.
He felt this way all of the time, but for her love, not just for sex. Sex should be an added bonus with love. Even though she loved him, she wasn't offering him that love, just sex, just for tonight. Selfish, that voice said. He's wonderful, so wonderful, and all you do is hurt him.
It was true, she realized. How could she ask him to give her something just once that he wanted to have forever, without offering him everything that went with it? She should leave Ron and come here, come and be with Viktor. Viktor offered everything she could hope for, and all Ron offered was hurt and embarrassment. Why was she still with Ron?
Her wedding vows. That was it.
No, it isn't. You know it isn't. You were going to happily violate them tonight.
A tear slipped out of one eye and she closed them tightly, ashamed of her realization. She was afraid to admit she'd failed. Her pride tasted very much like the pride that had been her husband's downfall. She had failed at marriage, even if it wasn't really her fault, and she didn't want to acknowledge it.
Hermione cried. That stupid fear of failure, and her stubborn pride, was causing pain to the man in the shower, the man she loved more than anything in the world, and she knew she had to fix it somehow.