Chapter 3
It became a habit.
Every night she'd walk down to the little rock club hoping to find him smacking his sticks against the drums, the black serpent slithering with every tense of his hand. The deep rhythmic boom that he created had replaced the sound of her heartbeat. If her eyes burned before, now they seared her skull from within. The glaring lights of the club punished her head time and time again but at least this was better than the darkness.
Every face was a stranger and his pale complexion didn't grace her presence there again. She did this for ten weeks. Had it been eleven? She couldn't recall. She'd enter the club, look for the drummer that controlled her heart and when she realised he wasn't there, she'd try to find those lips. The ones that made the butterflies appear in her stomach. But she was right, they were dead too.
The voices of those lost spun in her mind over and over again. What would they think of her now? What would they think of what she had become? Latching onto the only person she knew, and who she thought knew her, as if he would help her. As if he could soothe her in any way.
All this for that slimy git? You're pathetic.
Leave it alone Hermione and go to bed.
Really, him?
With every failed attempt to find him, the feeling of worthlessness sunk further into her gut, into her skin, and the voices became louder, more judgemental.
He's never going to be there. You'll search forever, you know you will and he'll never be there for you.
He hid from you. He doesn't want you.
You'll never be wanted, you'll be alone forever.
Come and be with us Hermione. Where you belong.
She was not one who coped well with failure. It was against her code, her values and ultimately, went against everything she'd ever been taught. She'd learned to be perseverant and to fight on when something became difficult. Just as she had in the war. The war that broke her willingness to fight. The war that she'd won, they'd won, yet it certainly didn't feel that way to her.
Each and every time she lived through another failure, it felt like each one became etched painfully on her already shredded heart. She didn't know how much more she could take before the structure of that grisly, unloved muscle decomposed into dust.
So after too long, she'd enter the club and when she'd notice that the drummer of this band or that didn't sport her childhood bully's white blond locks, she'd immediately follow the labyrinthine path of her tears home to pass out on her sofa, fully clothed. It had become somewhat of a pastime to bask in her loneliness this way.
In her logical mind, she knew that his band was likely somewhere else. Playing in a different venue. He could be halfway around the country for all she knew so she prayed that one day he'd return to their spot and she couldn't risk not being there if he did. The only energy she seemed to retain was just enough to go to work, come home, go to the club and return once more. Anything else was unimportant.
She'd watch the sun rise too early for her liking and with a heavy head, she'd plod along to work hoping that none of the strangers would notice the purple bags beneath her eyes. She'd get through the day as best she could, lying when her supervisor asked how she was. It was an empty sentiment, she knew. This person could never understand her were she to spew out to him the never-ending cycle of misery that was her innermost thoughts. It would just end in more of that look. The one she hated but had no energy left to quell.
He can't stand you really. That's why he's looking at you that way.
He thinks you're throwing your life away.
He's thinking of all he'd do with your Golden Girl status and yet here you are, sulking at your desk everyday.
As she plumped herself down onto her couch after a particularly dreadful day at the Ministry, she gazed over at her dusty and neglected bookshelf to the tomes that once brought her such joy. Maybe she could distract herself with one if she were able to rise from her seat again. She wasn't sure if it was possible now that she was there. The cushions felt so comforting as they wrapped around her buttocks, beckoning her sinfully downwards into the plush, enveloping warmth. The thick woollen blanket lying atop her frame hushed her further into the sofa and she figured that's where she'd stay until the club opened its doors for another evening of festivity.
Maybe she'd try again for the book tomorrow.
Whilst she sat there, staring into the white walls of her little flat and cocooned within a terrifying comfort, she imagined Draco's arms around her shushing her into peace and tranquility, resting her tired mind. She wondered about his lips. Whether they could possibly make her feel something resembling a tingle within her stomach and remove the soul-crushing numbness that had settled there for far too long. His mouth was quite nice, she supposed, when it wasn't curled in a sneer. It was a pale pink and stood out from his porcelain skin beautifully. The white strands of his hair dripped down to brush against the edge of his lips when he pushed his hand through it and moved it across his face. One could cut themselves on his perfectly parallel cheekbones and jawline and she thought how dangerous it would be to run her fingertips across them.
Wow, you really have memorised him haven't you?
You've spent... what? 15 minutes with him in 5 years and this is how you react? Pathetic.
You moved on quickly, Hermione. Did I mean nothing to you?
The voice of a red-headed boy who once made her weep with joy filled her mind. His kisses had once made her feel safe and warm. His voice was always the hardest to hear and her sense of failure tripled whenever he spoke to her.
"Shut up!" She begged, "Please! You meant the world..."
She sobbed into the blanket and gulped down her fire-whisky until the weariness of the sun shone through her bay window and told her it was time to leave.
She hated the heat of the sun now and the summer days that seemed to stretch on despite her silent protests. The light that singed the edge of her vision didn't belong anymore only to the street lamps and the glaring sign of the club, harkening her forward. Now it highlighted the many people walking beside her who weren't Draco and it made her desperate to escape this sea of the unknown. It made her pick up her feet and run.
As she'd practiced so many times before, she entered the dark little room where he'd once sat and yet again, he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Where, after all this time, she'd expected him to be. She questioned herself, what was the definition of madness?
Doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results, dear. You know that, her mother's voice responded.
The sudden intrusion of a voice she longed to hear brought a chuckle to the back of her throat and a wetness to her cheeks as her pooling eyes overflowed. That ounce of support from a person who once loved her, who was the reason for her happiness so long ago, pumped determination into her stilled veins. She knew she couldn't stay there and she couldn't go home. She wouldn't carry on doing this, she vowed. She'd find him if it took everything she had. Exiting the now familiar club, she rested her clammy hands on the red brick of the building beside her in an attempt to calm her mind enough to think. Were there any other rock clubs around here she could try?
"Sweetheart, you alrigh'?"
A jagged and rough voice came from behind her. She turned to view the man who'd disturbed her and shot him an easy scowl. He was very tall and wide with short shaved hair. He wore a black polo top buttoned up to his barely-there neck and crossed his large arms over his body looking down at her.
"F-fine... thanks"
"You... waiting for someone?" The bouncer looked her up and down, taking in her scruffy clothes and wild brunette curls.
"A white haired snake." She sniggered. "Know him?"
You don't know him, don't talk to him.
A voice called to her but she couldn't work out if it was her own or one she'd known before. Whoever it was, she ignored them.
"Drummer? Tattooed up to his arse?" He rolled his eyes. That's the one, she thought.
"Y-yes, does he still play here?"
"Nah darlin', he plays round the corner now. Uh... down this road, take a left until you get to the statue and it's called Bless, the club... on the right" He motioned with his hands, taking her on a virtual journey to her goal and she listened intently to every word, not wanting to miss a single detail. She spat out a quick 'Thanks' before starting to run in the opposite direction.
"Oi!" She heard from over her shoulder, forcing her to stop and turn back towards her saviour. "I'd stay away from that one if I were you, miss. He's a bellend"
With a strained but genuine smile on her face and more hope in her heart than ever before, she said with confidence, "Don't worry. I can handle him", and continued on.
Now. To the end of the road. Ok. Left to the statue.
Her tired feet took her exactly where she needed to be until she stood staring up at the sign that read 'Bless Night Club'. She combed her fingers through her rampant hair as best as she could and smoothed it over one shoulder. She straightened out her shirt to make herself look half-presentable and not like she'd just run around London in the late-night heat of June. Before stepping inside, she thought it best to cast a discrete perfume charm over herself. For her own benefit, of course.
Liar. You know who that's for.
Her heartbeat thudded against her rib cage in a perfect mirror of his beats upon the drum that now flooded her ears. She pushed herself inside, determined to get something from him. Anything. She just needed to feel something and if anyone could give her that, she hoped it was him. The boy who took her breath away and inflamed her emotions. She walked around the dark room towards the stage where blue, green and white lights shone forward, illuminating the dancers before her but blinding her from seeing the musician she needed to confirm was still with her.
Go home Hermione, please, he's not here. He never will be.
It was there, as she was cast upon with a green spotlight, that Draco noticed Hermione slowly walking towards him shielding her eyes. Panic struck him immediately and he found it hard to swallow for a second. He chose to ignore her, hoped to Merlin she wouldn't see him, and carried on his set. She could only cause trouble just like last time and he'd be damned if he'd let her fuck things up again. As if he'd been absent-mindedly drumming, knowing the beat like the back of his hand, he realised that the song was over and the lights were dimming. Gone was his opportunity to leave without her noticing.
She uncovered her eyes slowly, allowing herself to acclimate to the darkened room, and she saw him. Head in his hands, tussling his silver locks back and forth in frustration, muttering something under his breath. His bandmates turned to look at him with concern and he waved them away, lying through his teeth just as she had become so used to doing. She warily eyed the bouncers standing in front of the stage who looked like they could deal damage were someone to approach too closely to the band. A black eye was not something she needed. There was no chance she could make it to him undetected. She'd have to get his attention another way.
When a track came on over the stereo system, signifying that the band were taking a break, she began to dance as close to the stage as possible, where the crowd was thickest. There must only have been a few feet between her and him in that moment and she spotted him trying to keep his gaze on his black-laced boots but failing as she closed her eyes, lolled her head back and raised her arms to the ceiling to begin dancing. All she could hear was the thumping of the track reverberating through the floor of the packed club, rising through her feet to the tips of her fingers and silencing the voices that drained her spirit. All she could feel were the vibrations and the touch of a hand at her side. Then her other side. She opened her eyes, expecting him to have left his seat and be beside her, finally, but there he still sat.
Now a rage filled his face and his blue eyes had turned a crimson red. She looked about her to see two tall men either side of her, pushing their bodies closer to her, trapping her slight frame between them. Their hands moved all over her body, under her shirt and over her thighs, and she was curious at the sensation. No butterflies even now, she concluded, but still allowed the strangers to touch her. This isn't what she intended but it was clearly getting his attention. She couldn't help but grin at the wild-eyed drummer sat opposite her and pondered what it meant to her to see the anger spread over his face.
'Stop' he mouthed to her in warning.
She locked her gaze on him and only him, lowered her arms and placed one hand on the chests of each man, welcoming their touch. Her heart thudded more with every snarl he sent in her direction.
Draco gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw and he spoke again though she couldn't hear him over the pounding coursing sinfully through her veins.
'Granger', she thought she could make out. She would keep going as long as it took for him to burst through the wall he was holding himself behind. For his restraint to snap.
She looked up to one of the men. He wasn't unattractive but she was numb to his touch. He made her feel nothing. There was only one man that was making her heart pound and he was no longer sitting in front of her. A devilish smirk crossed her face and filled her with pride. She was beating him again and the feeling of success that she had learned to forget tasted sweeter than pie.
The man she'd looked into the eyes of lifted her face at her chin with one strong finger and began to lay kisses down her throat. On his third kiss, the feeling of hands and lips on her skin disappeared but she only noticed when a pale hand wrapped around her wrist once more, where it belonged, and a tingle spread from his long fingers onto her cold skin. She stared down at the hand while it dragged her roughly across the dance floor into a dark room. This one had no tattoos and that made her think. He was covered head to toe, save for this one hand. She wondered why, not noticing where he was taking her.
There were guitars, microphones and amps strewn along the walls of the room. Backstage? She asked herself, still gazing around, allowing the tingles to guide her wherever they wanted her to go. She felt compelled by the feeling she'd only dreamed would come to her again and by the man who was, unwittingly, giving it to her. He didn't look over his shoulder to her and his nails dug lightly into her wrist. Though she wanted them to dig deeper. She wondered how they'd feel digging into the skin of her face, her neck, her back, her thighs.
Her chest rose and fell quickly with excitement and she thought her senses might overload. Unashamedly now, her thoughts drifted to his lips again. What would he do if she just leaned in? Would he kiss her back? She had to know, if only once, if he could give in and comfort her like she needed. Would he disappear again and leave her searching once more?
She couldn't risk it. She couldn't return to the hollow of her flat with nothing to show for it. No knowledge outside of the misery she'd become accustomed to. Not another failure.
He dropped her wrist as they reached a dark corner when he turned her around and pinned her shoulders to the wall aggressively. If this was supposed to scare her, he was vastly misinformed. Her lips turned upwards and painted a pretty picture on her face. One that seemed to take him back for a second as his brow wavered before pinching again, collecting his resolve.
"Are you looking for trouble, Granger? You'd just let those... arseholes rub their..." he stifled back a gag.
"Maybe I am. Why do you care, Malfoy?" She drawled.
He hesitated momentarily, looking into her dead eyes and then down at her rouged parted and panting lips. He shot them back up to look into her face, venomously.
"I'm not doing this again. I've lost that name because of you. The last thing I fucking had and you took it from me" he finally barked, spittle flying into her face.
"W-what?"
"Don't act dumb, Granger. Use your head. I know that fucking swot is still in there somewhere" he tapped the side of her temple a couple of times whilst his other hand still pinned her to the cold brick wall. The two long, ringed fingers he used to press against her face then dropped to curl around her defined chin and lifted it slightly, intensifying her gaze into his murky grey eyes.
"You dropped your name? Because you used magic"
"There she is... to you my magical signature was all over that club. My fucking favourite. Changed my name, had to move house, had to drag the band from their home so that I didn't get thrown into fucking Azkaban! And not so much as an apology from you. No. You'd rather torment me again by throwing yourself like some kind of common whore at any man that would look at you!"
His forehead was now firmly placed against hers and his silver gaze pierced her skull. Eyes locked. Battle on. Her nostrils flared. Her hands rose to his upper arms and squeezed tightly. Her heart pumped faster than ever before. It was intoxicating. His strong hands gripping her face and shoulder shot a wave of ecstasy through her whole body and she could have almost begged in that moment for more. She needed to push him further.
"Torment? I'm not tormenting you Malfoy. I'm here to enjoy myself and if a couple of men want me, I am perfectly at liberty to explore that. They weren't hurting me"
"They could have done, Granger. You don't know them!"
"I can look after myself. I don't need you to come along and push them off me."
"Coulda fooled me. What would Potter say if he saw you?"
He's right Hermione.
"Shut up! Shut up!"
"No really. Do you think he'd be proud of you? You stink of booze, look like you haven't showered in a couple of days and you're here flinging yourself at some dickhead who only wants you for the evening."
"Here's not here to judge me! He can keep out of my head!"
She lifted her hands to her ears to block it out. He had no right to judge her. She didn't need any more judgement. She needed distraction, comfort, security. She needed to turn the conversation on him.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Granger?"
"You made that choice to use magic. I still had things to discuss with you in that bathroom! You're a coward. You always have been and always will be!"
"Don't... Don't call me a FUCKING coward" he panted into her face. She relished the feeling of his breath against her long lashes. Wanted to remember it for as long as she could.
"Then don't be one, Malf-'' she broke off, puzzled. He gripped her chin tighter as his rage burned through him. Unmistakable though was the way his eyes drifted down to her lips that pouted as he squeezed the skin of her chin. "What do I call you then?"
They shot back up at her words and flicked between her hazels rapidly, searching for something. What was she here for? Why was she doing this?
"You don't call me anything, witch. You walk out of here and never see me again... You leave me alone."
His tone dropped suddenly and her brows furrowed at the realisation that he sounded... sad? That infuriated her more. She needed him and he probably needed her, she guessed. He had lost everyone too.
He is a coward, she thought.
"I can't do that. I've... I looked for you. I went to that club... You left me again!"
Now her hands were tightly gripping his cheeks. Both plastered either side of his slender face. She watched as his lip curled and it sent a shockwave through her system. This was working and maybe she could get answers. She needed answers. Save her tired mind.
"No. That was your fault. You couldn't just leave me be. What do you think I am to you? Your knight in shining armour? You think I'm going to come along and make you less fucking miserable? I can assure you right now, I'd only make your life so much fucking worse... And you'd ruin me."
"I don't know. I don't care. I just... I just need..."
He chuckled in her face, pressing his closer and closing the small gap between them. His panting breath now pressed upon her squeezed lips and a gasp exited her throat. Just a tiny bit further and I'll know. If it doesn't work I'll leave him alone, she silently vowed.
"What do you need then? Go on. This ought to be good."
"I-I..."
"You what, hmm? You clearly have some kind of vendetta if you've been following me. Give it to me. What do you want?"
He sneered and his bottom lip grazed hers lightly. It was enough for her lips to set on fire, to crave more. As if his kiss was the only thing that mattered. She needed to know if he would be the one to awaken something more in her darkened soul.
"I... I need to fucking feel something Draco! I'm numb... I'm..." she let out a squeak, not knowing how to ask him for what she wanted. Not knowing how to express the bitterness and emptiness in her heart. Scared that he might not want it too and she'd lose this one chance at... She stopped the tirade of thoughts filling her head before they went too far. This is just about a kiss, she told herself, just an experiment. No more than that.
"I just need to know..." She peered down at his quivering lips and watched him wet them, making her brows tighten with need. She was sure it would be electric. If only she had the strength to just move that inch closer and do it.
The hand that had been gripping her shoulder slowly slipped down her body, skimming over her heaving chest, causing her to gasp sharply as a fire began to burn in her core, and settled tightly on her waist.
Finally.
"You need to feel something? You need me to make you feel again Granger?" He whispered seductively in her ear, the fury running through him still evident in his voice. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. In his next words, he refused to look anywhere but directly at that full, bitten lip.
"Say it."
"Kiss me."
No hesitation. Her mouth opened before her mind caught up. Her head was racing with possibilities.
"That's impolite. Say it properly" he demanded.
That notorious, familiar, smug grin was back on his face. The one that said he'd turned the tables on her. He was in control now and he fucking loved it. At that moment, she didn't care. This is what she needed. She'd waited so long and she wasn't above begging.
"Please Draco, kiss me" she pleaded, staring deep into his stormy grey eyes.
"Good girl".
His praising words made her stomach tighten and her thighs clench. A soft barely-there moan had begun to leave her lips when he began to pull away. His hand dropped from her chin, from her waist and he stood back. He looked her up and down, taking in all of her, as she tried to recover her breath, draped against the wall where she was so deliciously crushed by his body only seconds before.
"W-w" she cleared her throat. "What are you doing?"
"I have to say, Granger, that I never thought I'd see the day you came to me. ME. And begged for a little kiss. My. Things must be bad for you, mustn't they?"
That smirk was now a permanent feature of his face. He licked his upper teeth maliciously and watched her watch him do it. It reminded her of a memory once forgotten from school. He'd tip his head to one side, pull on the lapels of his black robes, and he'd direct that evil smile in her direction. Across to her, Harry and Ro-
Stop. Stop. STOP. He's gone. They both are.
She buried her head in her hands. She wouldn't let him see her cry. She pushed back a stray tear and lifted her head. Refused to be humiliated. She wanted this. Wanted his anger. Needed to regain control. In this moment, he reminded her more of that boy she knew than ever, since the world stopped turning and it was only them. This is what she wanted, no matter how much it hurt.
"Maybe so, Malfoy. But it's worse for you." Maybe this would push him over the edge, she calculated. Though it pained her to do, for once she wanted to be selfish. As he was.
"Do go on, Granger. Why don't you tell me about myself? Like you have a fucking clue"
He leant himself against the wall across the room from her, staring deep into her eyes, with his arms folded defensively.
"You're just as lonely as I am. Since your mum was killed and-"
"Don't you DARE speak about my mother, you little-"
"...and you can't bear to look in the mirror. You barely eat, just look at you. You haven't felt like yourself for years. Since before the war. You hardly know who you are anymore. You play drums to block out the noise. You pretend you're happy in the muggle world but you regret ever being part of the war... you regret being the one to survive..."
She panted. Hard. And didn't notice until they'd fallen that her cheeks were stained with tears. This was the first time she'd ever said it aloud to another human soul. The first time she'd ever been honest or opened up to anyone since they all left. She knew how he felt because they were the same. Identical yet opposite.
"You... Y-you" she stifled back a sob. "You miss them. Every day. B-but... there's nothing you can do. You have to just... go on. As best you can."
The tension in his body eased, his arms unfolded and played nervously at his side. His gaze dropped to the floor and his mouth parted. He softened and so did she. She opened her mind, clarity finding her at last, and pieced it together. Why he had gotten so angry watching another man touch her, why he refused to kiss her even though they were so close, why he kept pushing her away.
"You want me to leave you alone..."
"You don't know anything about-"
"...because you don't think you can bear losing anything else."
His silver eyes shot up to her swiftly. Now that she had started and relief filled her veins, she wasn't sure if she could stop.
"All I wanted... All I fucking wanted was to rid myself of this burden. This... hollowness. I... struggle Malfoy"
"Her-... Granger..."
"Just once... To know that I could still..."
"Still what?"
"I'm asking for your help" she sighed in admission.
She looked to the ground now and felt the exhaustion take over her. The energy she held previously to spill out her soul drained away as quickly as it had powered her up. She slumped back into the wall, her knees buckling and betraying her as her emotions took their toll. At that moment, if he wasn't going to give her what she wanted, she just wanted to go home. And sulk her life away.
She stared at nothing. The dark, damp patch of the wall in the opposite corner of the room. She studied how it spun around in her head, the result of too much fire whisky and shame for one evening. The darkness consumed her, enveloped her and she stared harder. Her heavy lids eventually shut of their own accord and the tears flowed silently down her face. She didn't know if he was even in the room anymore. Maybe he had left and he was gone from her life once more. She couldn't open her eyes to check.
I could stay here, she thought. This is as good a place as ever.
Her feet cemented to the floor and she wrapped her arms over her body. Her hands settled around her waist in a shallow attempt at comfort.
She was sinking, she knew. But she didn't care. She didn't know how long the silence between them had filled the room.
Then, hope.
"Just once?" His low raspy voice suddenly shocked her eyes open.
He's still here?
She couldn't find the words. As if the never-ending void that she was so close to entering once more had taken the ability from her. He was still standing across the room, too far away from her and his head was dipped. His eyes closed tightly.
She cleared her throat and clutched at that hope with both hands like a buoy that had floated into her path, dragging her from the depths to the surface.
"P-please"
Without moving from his position, he began to breathe out of his nose hard. Like the oxygen had been drained from the room and he was desperately grasping for more. Then in a second he was in front of her, lifting her from her crumbled state against the wall and dropping her into a sofa that she hadn't noticed sat next to her. She looked up at him as he leant over her, both hands placed either side of her head as it lolled back to rest on the cushions. Her frail heart beat once more out of her chest and now she was scared. Excited but terrified all at once.
"Just once, Hermione" he muttered under his shaky breath as he inched forward and placed a soft, tender but firm kiss on her tear-soaked lips.
Hermione inhaled sharply through her nose at the contact as if it was the first breath she had ever taken. Like her dry lungs had never worked a day in her life before his lips touched hers.
The sensation coursing through her unfeeling body was like a bolt of lightning. Fast-paced and electrifying, it reached the tips of her fingers and the depths of her mind, temporarily cleansing every part of her.
The kiss was much more delicate than she thought it would be. In all of her imaginations of this moment, his care and sensitivity was one she never dreamt about. Never knew he was capable of it. She thought that his hatred of her and their turbulent history would come together after a nasty argument in a passionate kiss with tongues clashing, hands all over each other's eager bodies. That's what she thought she wanted. But this... the gentle caress of his lower lip squeezing her thin rosy upper lip was everything. Worried that he might pull away and leave her sinking into numbness once more, she lifted her head slowly from the sofa and cupped his cheek, pressing harder into the overwhelming sensation he was filling her body with.
His right hand lifted from the sofa cushions and hesitantly pushed softly against her cheek, through her messy hair and settled at the nape of her neck. His thumb brushed lightly against her ear repeatedly and she could feel the goosebumps form on her arms. A gentle moan escaped him involuntarily, making her shiver with delight, as he felt her arm wrap around his neck, pulling him closer.
Not wanting to break the kiss that was becoming her lifeline, Hermione tugged him towards her. Draco fell onto the sofa beside the curly-haired temptress and internally cursed himself for his weakness. Both of his large hands now took her pretty, wet face in his grasp and she turned her body into him, wrapping her foot around his ankle. They clutched onto each other as if their sweet connection would soon be ripped from them.
She took what she could. All of those long days feeding into disappointing nights. All the minutes she was away from him. Every second her blood ran cold and trickled through her veins felt worth it now. She craved his touch and she wasn't sure, now that he'd shown what he can give her, if she could ever stop chasing it.
He knew he should tear away from her. This could never end well but he couldn't seem to unfurl his fingers from her hips. His body shook with terror, joy, and an overpowering need. He raised his hands to her face and swept the tears away with his thumbs while he kissed her, insulted that they should ever have fallen from her golden eyes in the first place.
As though her lips were magnets to his own, he met her force with equal passion and pulled her over him by her thighs to straddle his lap. The kiss then became more than they had silently promised each other.
She felt his tattoo-laden arms wrap around the curve of her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she basked in the comforting warmth that passed between them. Her small hands pushed against his chest and stuttered under the feeling of his heart pounding against his ribs to reach her.
She wondered, as she felt his tongue tentatively run along her bottom lip, whether he'd thought about kissing her like this before. She welcomed the taste of him into her mouth assuringly and began to fight his tongue with hers. His stuttering breaths that brushed against her mouth triggered her insecure mind into overdrive and she opened her eyes slowly. Draco's silver brows were pulled taut together and his entire face looked strained as if the feeling of kissing her pained him.
Does he want this?
Is he just doing this to make me feel better?
If he is, why does he care?
As he squeezed her waist with both hands tighter, she let out a squeak into his mouth at the feeling of being held like this. She felt his lips pull upwards slightly at the corners as he continued to kiss her now unrelentingly and oh so passionately.
If I've ever done anything right, don't let this end, she begged nobody and everybody.
Little fingers played at the hem of his t-shirt and he sucked in a sharp gasp as her cold knuckles teased the skin of his abdomen.
She felt him tense all over as she slowly pulled his shirt higher, wanting more. Needing to see where the tight coil of pleasure building in her stomach could take her if only he would allow her more of him. For a moment, she thought it was over. That she'd ruined... whatever this was between them. His lips stopped moving, but still latched onto hers, and he sucked in his tongue, ripping the taste of him from her. He held himself there, his hands shaking against her hips, as he waited to see what she would do. He waited and felt her moving her hands further up his stomach to his chest, until his t-shirt was bunched underneath his armpits. She stopped, needing his permission now. This is where she'd learn for certain just how much he was willing to give and what she would be allowed to take.
He sucked on her lower lip as he tried to regulate his breathing and calm the sense of panic rising through him. He could turn back now, throw her off him and never see her again. It would be the sensible thing to do, he knew and his head screamed at him to listen to reason. She'd ruin him and he couldn't afford it. But then she pulled her lips from his to allow her to raise the shirt over his head and the absence wracked him.
He dipped his head back in to rejoin their lips immediately and that's all she needed to know.
He wants this just as much as you.
Ending the kiss again, she gently lifted his arms to take the interrupting piece of clothing from his body as quickly as she could so that she could taste his minty breath once more. It seemed like the second it took to remove it, however, was too long for him to wait as she felt him press kisses into her jaw and down her neck. Where the strangers from the club made her feel nothing, Draco's soft caresses felt like an injection of dopamine straight into her spine. She released a guttural moan filled with relief and felt his lips curl into a smile against the soft flesh of her throat.
He trailed his kisses downwards slowly. His lips now had a mind of their own and he was just following the sweet curve of her body wherever they chose to take him. He explored every crevice of her neck and shoulders with his kisses, gaining soft groans from her lips, and released one or two buttons on her blouse to expose the tops of her honeyed arms.
Opening his eyes to take in any detail of her that he could, any freckle he could memorise to remember this night, the only one he'd have with her, he laid his lips over the plumpness that peaked out of her vest and loosened another button of her blouse cautiously.
Hermione couldn't remember when she had last felt this way. Excited and cared for and held. She'd think later that night when she was alone again in her flat that Draco's touch was like nothing she had felt before. For so long she had tried to find anything resembling what she had lost but this... this tense, longing, desperate passion was unique. It seemed they both needed this and she would lay awake regretting that it had to end.
"Blake! Blake, where the fuck are you? We're on in-"
A stranger entered their lonely universe, slamming the door open against the opposite wall and the thought of losing him again sent a panic through her chest. Not again. Not when she knew she wouldn't be able to let him go now. Not now that she's experienced his kiss and knows the pinewood scent of his tousled hair. Not when she still has so much left to do and say.
His bandmate's call shocked him awake from his sweet daydream and all of his forgotten fear overwhelmed his body, and returned to him in full force. He rested his forehead in the crook of her neck for a few seconds and felt her rapid pulse against his face, her shaking hands against his upper arms.
"There you are. Oh!"
The stranger flicked on the lights in the room to reveal Draco's shame. His messy locks and bare torso. Her swollen lips and red throat. He didn't know whether to strangle his friend or rush over to thank him for stopping him before he went too far. This couldn't happen again, he wordlessly vowed, and removed his hands from her body.
His touch left her like she was having an out of body experience. The absence of him now returned her empty heart to rest between her steadying lungs and she instinctively grasped at her wand in her pocket.
He noticed immediately and, sensing the trouble this witch was bound to cause, grabbed onto her wrist tightly pulling it away from the weapon at her disposal.
"Get off me, Granger'', he barked and his sudden harshness confused her. She did as he asked, peeling her shaky legs from his lap, and buttoned her blouse as she walked over to the other side of the room, not facing either man.
"Granger? This... You're Hermione?"
The stranger asked and she didn't know how to answer. This man somehow knew who she was but other than vaguely remembering his face from atop the stage this evening, she knew nothing of him.
As she turned to look the man in the face and get a picture of who he may be, Draco rose from the sofa sharply, covered himself with the thin white cloth of his t-shirt and stormed towards the doorway of their room. She only glimpsed his bare chest for a second but admired the way the intense black shapes swirled over his pale body. She could make one out clearly that settled on his right side, just above his waist. A small set of teacups with saucers coloured thickly in black ink. In that second before his shirt recovered his modesty, she stepped closer quietly so as to maybe get a closer look.
His lips moved as he whispered something to the man at the door before turning his head over his shoulder to look her in the eye once more.
Then he was gone.
Again.
And she could feel the cool sting of failure resurfacing. The voices returned and this time, they shouted.
