Chapter 2
Astoria
Tucking away any feelings of disappointment, as it has been close to nine years since we knowingly shared a room, let alone a proper conversation.
Those three words seep between us like morning mist on robes, tiny droplets of diamonds to glimmer and cut. The same tendrils of condescension that once were used mask his youthful arrogance and bluster, now replaced by a deep, resonant timber commanding attention without the need for shouting or posturing.
A voice not the product of choice but rather coercion has shaped the deep echo, currently bouncing down my spine and causing a tightening in.. well… certain places.
I am beginning to believe that the articles have done us all a great disservice in capturing the essence of Draco Malfoy. Though I can't fault them for not being able to convey the quality of his voice.
Even as he sits, he eats up the space, leaning back on his chair with long legs extended and a tumbler in hand. His thighs. Does everyone wear their trousers at that cut? His thighs are incredibly defined, perhaps from Quidditch or daily rides on the family Abraxans. I feel a ripple of my magic. Eyes up Astoria.
"Hello Mr. Malfoy" I say, offering my hand in greeting, to kiss or shake – player's choice – suppressing a smirk at the formality of using his family name.
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Miss?" Draco questions, ignoring my extended hand. Somehow, he has the ability to make the title "miss" sound like an insult.
"I'll let you guess." I hit him with my broadest smile, revealing my teeth, my dimples making an appearance as well. This is the smile that even tickles my father's hairy heart.
However, Draco does not seem dazzled or reminded.
"Astoria Greengrass" I finally offer breaking the silence before it has the chance to become more awkward.
His eyes shift, if only for a moment. I catch a flash of – annoyance? No, that couldn't be right. He couldn't still be mad about his favorite broom? Besides, it was Daphne who got it stuck in the bog.
"Astoria Greengrass?" He asks, once again a quick flicker.
It's a strange talent of his, the ability to appear as if he is looking down at someone all the while still seated below. I notice a tick in his jaw and the tilt of his head as he attempts to pierce my gaze with his own.
I drum my glittered nails on the table, diverting my gaze between the plate of delectable treats and his furrowed brow. "You know, maybe it is time I've considered a name change. How does Princess Gwynnevere sound?" I quip, attempting to lighten the mood. I'll play along with this dragon who's fiercely guarding his stash. How did their table end up being the only one to receive the plate of puffs, anyway?
"Are you amusing yourself?" The silver eyed beast notices what holds my attention as he pushings the prized plate towards Nott.
"Are we meant to be serious right now?" I lean in to whisper and attempt to reach for the plate.
"Honestly, I am a bit brokenhearted to be so easily forgotten after all the baths we've shared." My whisper seems to have distracted the wrong gentleman.
"What Malfoy, I thought the Prefects' baths were our boy Notts' thing!" Blaise boasts until he notices me and zips around the table to plant a kiss on each of my highlighted cheeks.
"Astoria! Really Draco?" His hand still lingers on my shoulders as he shoots his narrowed eyes in Draco's direction, positioning himself between me and the table.
"Well to clarify, I was three at the time, and he, and Daph, were five. You see, our mothers refused to let us inside the summer house with all the mud, so they had the house-elves drag a tub outside and spray us down like cattle." I take a moment to admire the embroidery on Blaise's cream-colored robes. Pleased that he is amongst the gentlemen that chose to branch away from the standard black formal robes tonight.
"Both Greengrasses Drak!" He gives his friend's shoulder a hearty slap. Zambini's signature tonka bean scent drifts to my nose with the movement. A custom scent made by his family's profumeria.
"Do quiet yourself, there are idiots all around. We were children you prat." Darco's lips press together in an expression that is all Narcissa as he comes to stand.
"Prat he calls me? How rude. Here, Astoria, take the whole plate". Blaise says, noticing my longing gaze, and then summons the plate to his hand with a flick of his bejeweled wrist.
"No" Draco stamps out, snatching the plate midair. Blaise looks at him incredulously, as if his friend grew a second white-blonde head.
My mouth must be open in shock since before I recover, Blaise acts swiftly snagging a puff and stuffing it in. I stare wide eyed no doubt looking like a squirrel preparing for winter. I pray that he did not drop any cream on my gown in his haste.
Placing a hand in front of my mouth I attempt to chew as I block the view of any filling on my lips. This clearly is not a bite sized snack. I won't even have the luxury to savor the massive thing as I have been forced to swallow it whole. I hear Blaise mutter something about only children needing to learn to share.
"Miss Astoria Dido Greengrass!" Edith Burke-Rowle pushes forward all ruffles and elbows. Her shrill voice quickly transports me back in time when she would scold Daphne and I for running in the gardens. As one of the heads of the 28 Club she takes her tea and lunches very seriously. My current predicament of attempting to swallow a cream puff as if I am a serpent devouring a deer whole would be a top tier offense in her books. Even more so due to the young male audience surrounding me as witness.
"I'm half tempted to drag you over to your father. This really is unbecoming. I imagine your mother would be rolling in her grave seeing you like this. Bless her soul."
I do have to wonder at Mrs. Burke-Rowle's memory given that my mother was cast to sea on a burning canoe a la Greengrass family tradition. An event she herself dutifully attended.
I notice Draco stiffen perhaps to stifle a laugh. One can't forget he is renowned for his skills of legilimency, skills that have no doubt come to be useful to the Ministry. As if he is indeed following my thoughts, his eyes meet mine. I'll remember to flood my thoughts around this one.
"My apologies Mrs. Burke-Rowle." I am finally able to mutter once the dessert makes its way down my esophagus. Hand still in front of my mouth to hide the bit of cream I am attempting to lick at with my tongue. Where are all the napkins?
"Yes, well…" She continues to speak, but no longer directs her words towards me. Instead, she focuses on conversing with the gentlemen standing around the table, intent on achieving her true objective: securing introductions and dance partners for her nieces.
I wasn't sorry. Now that the focus has been removed from me I plan to extract myself from our group's biggest gossip and begin to make my excuses to the ladies lounge.
"Miss Greengrass?"
Queen Gwen of snakes and squirrels to you Malfoy.
"Yes?" When did he move to be so close?
"I believe another apology is due."
Is this little shit for real? I raise a brow to rival his own while contemplating resorting to magic to remove the remaining filling on my face.
"You misinterpreted me. It is I who wishes to apologize." He hands me his handkerchief. Luckily my gown had not been spoiled.
Several sets of eyes around us follow the gesture.
"Thank you." I reply, taking the folded square of silk.
"I apologize for my slow recognition tonight, as you said it has been a while since we have last seen each other and you have grown."
"She sure has. My apologies as well Ria, sorry for all the cream." The fuck Zambini?
"Not accepted Zi" I quip dabbing at the corners of my mouth.
"Bah! Then I'll make it up with a dance after dinner?"
"Depends on the dance"
"Tango of course"
"Fine. I accept." Lowering the handkerchief as Theo slinks his way over to our group.
"You all left me to Burke-Rowle." He glowers, running a hand through his sandy curls. Any style long past disturbed giving him the look of a toddler just up from a nap.
"And?" Draco lifts a dark brow.
"And? She's like a panther on the prowl." He mumbles.
"Oh poor Nott." Blaise says tauntingly "You don't like being the hunted only the hunter?"
Theo scowl deepens. "Shut it Zambini, you don't understand she started talking through the entire family tree, ancient alliances, and whatnot. It is exhausting."
Draco chuckled, "Well Theodore, maybe it's time you learned how to hold a conversation. It is a useful skill to have."
"However, did you come to extract yourself Mr. Nott?" I ask, intrigued.
"I finally agreed to dance with her nieces."
Draco and Blaise both burst out laughing.
"Which ones?" Blaise asks, still chuckling.
"What do you mean which ones?
"Well, she has five." I reply, sympathetically.
Theo groans. "All out and here tonight?"
"Looks like it mate." Draco grins.
"Better eat up at dinner and rest your legs, you're sure to need the energy." Zabini taps his glass against Theo's.
"And maybe switch to your steel toed boots." I add with a smirk of my own.
Theo glares at me then turns to his friends hopefully. "You both could help me out, you know. Take a few off my hands."
Draco and Blaise exchanged a look, then burst out laughing again. "Sorry, Nott," Blaise said between chuckles. "You're on your own with this."
As they talk I focus on folding the napkin switching from a neat square to a more complicated arrangement. Noticing the monochrome stitching forming a variant of the Malfoy family crest.
"Where is Daphne?" Zabini inquiries drawing me back to the conversation.
"Most likely going over final preparations for the speech." I smile reflecting on my sister and her dislike for public speaking being overshadowed only by her passion for the project.
"No, it looks like she's dancing with Valois. Possible securing some last minute additions to the center's funding?" I stiffen at Theodore's correction search for my sister's twirling form in the arms of a dark haired partner. The Valois brothers resemble each other greatly. I wait hoping they take a turn closer to where I am standing to uncover which sibling is dancing with mine.
"Ah, yes. Perhaps they could expand the potions research wing," I say, offering a quick to our little group. "It has been delightful seeing you all and becoming reacquainted. Enjoy the evening, gents!" As I turn to leave, Blaise reminds me of our designated dance.
Remembering the handkerchief as I pass, I hand the folded silk back to Draco, now transformed into the shape of a fox.
—-
Dinner was an absolute delight.
Luckily gossip of my squirrel puff performance had not made way to my father's ears. Each course was more enchanting than the last. As I savored the grilled asparagus and mushroom tart with truffle oil and parmesan cheese, I buzzed with a sense of pride for Pansy, whose culinary skills had truly shone through in the dishes she had designed for the evening. The chilled pea soup with mint and crème fraîche was refreshing, and the spring greens salad with edible flowers, strawberries, and goat cheese was a work of art. The pan-seared scallops with a lemon beurre blanc and sautéed spring vegetables were cooked to perfection, then the herb-roasted rack of lamb with roasted potatoes and a red wine reduction was simply from another realm.
As we moved on to the cheese course, I couldn't help but overhear whispers about Pansy's future in the culinary world. Many were wishing for the rumors of a restaurant to come true.
Finally, the dessert arrived: a mouth-watering rhubarb tart with vanilla bean whipped cream. Each dollop magically whipped mid air before floating onto our tarts like settling clouds.
It was the perfect ending to a splendid meal. I warm looking around the room, taking in the beauty of the decorations and the sound of the soft music playing in the open air space. My sister's event had come together remarkably, and I couldn't have been more enchanted.
Finally the dancing resumed. I danced with Neville Longbottom, Oliver Wood, Marcus Flint, and Kai Ryujin. Adrian Pucey joined next, the new waltz style requiring several turning lifts, putting his quidditch muscles to superb use. After a quick round of refreshment, it finally came time for the promised tango.
Blaise's goal of gaining my forgiveness over the creme puff incident seemed to be overshadowed by his desire to show off and scandalize a few matrons. Perhaps to caution them from requesting him to dance with their daughters. But despite that, Blaise had always been one of my favorite ballroom partners, and this tango was no exception. The dips and leg movements were executed with an eased precision, causing us both to smile at the impressed looks we received from guests as we passed. Blaise certainly knew how to make a statement on the floor.
I catch Blaise attempting to stifle a smirk as we move into the final elongated dip, his arms holding me securely as I leaned back, my gown billowing all around. The final notes from the instruments reverberate out into the night, signaling the end of the set.
Blaise straightens us up, and I couldn't hold back a playful swat to his arm. "You're incorrigible," I teased, a smile on my lips.
Blaise's mischievous grin persisted, his eyes twinkling with humor. "What can I say? I couldn't resist giving them a bit of drama," he remarked playfully.
We maneuvered our way off the crowded dance floor, and I eagerly sought a chance to take a short break. My feet were beginning to ache, sensing the fading effects of the cushion potion. After the indulgent feast and energetic dancing, I knew I would need to visit the ladies' room for another dose, which was always in stock.
Just as I turn away from Blaise, my steps are abruptly halted, nearly avoiding a collision with Draco as he steps into my path.
"May I have the next dance?" Draco's voice cut through the chatter. The murmbers were right about the fairy lights shimmering in his eyes.
"Mr. Malfoy, Hello, I was just about to step out. I am starting to regret my choice of heels."
We both take a look downward where my heel peaks out from the folds of my gown.
"Ah, let me handle that for you." He offers, wand in hand conjuring a spell that has my feet cooling.
"Sir! Do you make it a habit of hexing ladies without their permission?" I quip, feigning my offense.
"Sir?" He smirks. "More of a charm than a hex, wouldn't you say, Miss Greengrass? And surely preferable to the potions?"
"Hmm I suppose, we can put your charm to the test." Taking my hand in his, Draco leads me onto the dance floor, now bewitched to resemble the night sky.
As we find our place amongst the other witches and wizards, the cooling charm continues its delightful work. I feel the tingling sensation as it spreads from my calves to the tips of my toes, soothing the fatigue and cramps plaguing my feet.
"I have a request, Miss Greengrass," his voice filled with a hint of mischief.
Curious, I shift my attention from the tiny star constellation near my wiggling toes to his face as he pulls me into our beginning formation.
"Let me lead," he proposed, a glimmer of challenge in his eyes.
"Oh," I responded, momentarily taken aback. I had grown accustomed to being the stronger partner in a duo and leading the movements.
"Yes, Miss Greengrass. I see you're used to being the better dancer, but my mother is here tonight and it would be a shame to let all those years of lessons go to waste," he continued, offering a teasing smile.
I hesitated for a moment, considering the request. Relinquishing control in ballroom styles was not something I was accustomed to, but a playful spark in Draco's eyes, reminiscent of our childhood, enticed me to give it a try.
"I could try," I finally conceded, accepting the challenge with a hint of amusement.
As the music begins, I anticipate its beat, feeling the rhythm pulsate. Draco's gloved hand extends mine elegantly to our side, while his other settles firmly on my lower back. My other hand finds its place on his strong shoulder, his figure seemingly broader and more defined than I had previously noticed. Even with the regretful height of my heels my eyes only reach to be inline with the tailored fabric stretched over his sculpted shoulders.
With each passing moment, our breaths begin to sync, the unspoken connection between partners forms, transcending words, just gentle nudges and tilts.
Possibilty hangs in the air, the electrifying hum of my magic flows as I eagerly await Draco's first move. Our bodies remain poised, ready to respond to the dance's demands.
As if in recognition of everyone's shared fervor, the transformative power of the music weaves around us. A pulsing rhythm fills the room, resonating within our very beings much like our magic. In a most stunning display, the enchanted floor seems to zoom out once again, unveiling the awe-inspiring Triangulum Galaxy as its backdrop. The pinwheel of constellations swirls its own dance, a breathtaking tapestry against the expanse of space.
Just as the image of the galaxy settles into place, we move as one, our steps skipping like a stone across the surface of a lake as boundaries between lead and follow blur.
"Relax." he breathes out, gliding us towards the outer edge of the floor, the bright red star Antares guiding our way.
"I hear congratulations are in order," Darco says, as we find our pacing.
"Oh?" I respond, curious about his statement.
An opening to our left, the perfect opportunity to slide into the space and be able execute a particular move comes into view. However, I suppress the urge, determined to attempt to let him lead.
"You recently graduated, did you not?" Draco continues, smoothly directing us towards the open space I had noticed before.
"Well, yes" I reply, feeling the corner of my mouth twitch, no doubt a hint of a dimple showing. "Commencement was just two weeks ago. Though I am continuing some research with the Archimedes branch over the summer."
I was correct, the perfect amount of space for a passing turn.
His eyebrows raise in intrigue as his gaze comes back to me. "Oh, your focus was not Dance?"
"No, not Dance" I explain, breaking eye contact as I fixate on his steady movements. "I never really wished to perform. I did take a few electives on dance history though. I find the evolution and significance in different cultures fascinating."
Draco nods, eyes glimmering with a hint of understanding or is that the Milky Way reflecting? "But you miss it," he states, diverting us around a rather uncoordinated wizard dressed in magenta and sea glass green.
I pause for a moment, considering his words and struggling as I let him settle us around the teetering pair. "Sometimes." I admit, as I loosen into his movements. "I miss more… the creation process, rehearsals, improving with other dancers, working to convey the work, and seeing how the end result is received by the audience. Perhaps one day, I'll get back at it and choreograph. I still take classes from time to time."
"Always an artist at heart." he replies. His words were laced with a touch of nostalgia.
Memories surface as he speaks, reminding me of a time when Daphne and I would sit by the warm crackling fire, the soft glow of candlelight reflecting over hers and our mothers gentle waves. Our mother, with meticulous care, would direct the house elves in adorning our leotards with delicate rosebuds and shimmering gems.
"Yes. And how are you enjoying the Department of Mysteries?" I ask, genuinely curious about his work.
He chuckles softly. "Well, there's not much to say about it, being an Unspeakable and all. Secrecy is our way."
I smirk playfully holding the last movement a bit longer, my back and neck extending as he pivots around. I catch a flash of raven hair, as well as, a few other duos around us inspired to attempt the same movement.
I let him bring me back to a neutral stance as we move into the next set. "And here I thought you were going to reveal all the details of your upcoming covert missions."
He leans in, his voice barely a whisper, his hand on my back pulls me closer as we gracefully skim across the floor. "Ah, well we plan on breaking into the MACUSA archives on Monday and taking over the Ministry of Turkey on Tuesday." He whispered his hand on my back pulling me in closer still as we take our next pass around the far side of the floor.
"And Wednesday? Will you be cutting off the water supply in Wisconsin?
"Ah yes, but only if Monday's plan goes off without a hitch." He guides towards the center of the pinwheel once again.
His words elicit a burst of laughter from me, and it spills out uncontrollably. The sound piercing through the night air, drawing curious glances from those nearby.
"You're full of secrets and surprises," I reply with a wide grin, enjoying the playful banter.
His eyes, rumbling from the shade of mist to storm cloud as he speaks. "Perhaps we should hire you as an irrigator?" He suggests a hint of playfulness lacing his words. The closeness between us intensifies as we navigate into the more congested center of the floor.
As the music weaves its hypnotizing melody, we embrace a comfortable silence, now attuned to the subtle nuances of each other's movements. The imagery beneath our feet begins to shift, the floor transforming the cosmic tapestry yet again. It zooms in on the mesmerizing rings of a distant planet, and suddenly, we find ourselves as if suspended in the ethereal plane, twirling and chasséing among the moondust.
The disorienting effect of the shifting imagery causes a slight stumble among many of the surrounding duos, but Draco's stance never wavers. His steady presence reassuring as I hold on a bit firmer, finding stability in his touch. We continue to navigate the expanse of moon bits with fluidity and ease, as if we were born to move among the stars.
With each step and slide, I finally release into the feeling of letting go, trusting the connection and shared understanding as he conducts our movements. Draco becomes an anchor, supporting and steering me through intricate patterns and spins. I let him surprise me with a complex twirl around his back, seamlessly switching hands and transitioning into a twisting pattern of footwork. Gravity holds no sway as the dance floor becomes our celestial playground each of us kicking up stardust in our wake.
"You hijacked our table just for the patissier didn't you?" Draco's voice cuts through the music as the musicians transition towards their final few phrases.
I gasp, the sound blending with the building notes of the final section. "Just the patissier? Of course, they are Pansy's best creation so far. And only one batch made it out alive tonight. However did your table manage to get them?"
"I have my ways." As if to punctuate our exchange, Draco spins us around another couple in the dancing area. The layers of my gown billow out, creating a captivating whirlwind of fabric, before gracefully wrapping around us.
"I didn't even have the chance to enjoy them properly. Blaise about shoved it down my throat!"
Amidst the whirl of our dance and the vibrant laughter, Draco's gaze lingers on my throat as I continue to speak. "Why did you think I came to your table?" I inquire, trying to divert his attention away from that particular spot.
He releases my hand momentarily, allowing me to spin out, flicking my skirt for added flair in time with the punctuated note. "I thought you were another coming over to flirt and fill your dance card." he replies with a hint of amusement. Still not meeting my eyes, yet we are so close I cannot quite make out what he is looking at.
"Well my goal was dessert, however, if my goal was to fill up my card I suppose I won." I raise an eyebrow, teasingly.
Draco's eyes lock back with mine this time as I ease back into the carriage of his arms. "There are a few more." He murmurs.
"More men to dance with or Pansy's puffs?" I almost stop moving with my excitement. My statement echoed a conversation I had previously with Gabrielle.
"Pansy's Puffs". He clarifies, the hand on my back flexing open covering more space as I suddenly have the urge to evanenco his gloves. What is this 1823, why do we even still wear them?
"Really?" I can't help but bite my lip for any essence of the creme, savoring the thought of the delectable treats.
Draco's eyes wander. "Hmm yes, they pair well with champagne," stormy gaze hovering on my lower lip at its release from my teeth.
I lean in slightly, matching his bored tone. "I'd say they pair even better with rum." I feel his breath ghost across my recently moistened lips.
"Nott smuggled in a bottle of Pyrat Vast 1623, would you be interested in some?" He offers casually, as if discussing the most ordinary of matters.
Would I be interested? At the mere mention my mouth starts to water at such a rare and exquisite selection.
I try to maintain a nonchalant tone, concealing my elation beneath the veil of indifference. "Yes, I suppose that will do." I respond, playing along.
His smirk reappears, eyes gleaming with challenge. "Such a snake," he remarks.
"I was also Slytherin, remember." I reply, a sly smile forming on my lips. "But truly, I really am winning tonight. Puffs, talented dance partners, and Pyrat Vast!"
I feel Draco chuckle rumble against my chest. "Yes, almost a hat stall if I remember correctly. Before your transfer to France."
I nod, reminiscing. "Yes, Beaxbatton doesn't even have houses. They simply separated us by year and gender."
"How archaic!" Draco comments, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Very… but the uniforms and parties were fantastic." I add as we move into another series of complicated movements in tandem with the coda.
"You're doing so well," I swear he coos, his voice sending shivers down my spine. And my mind simply goes blank, overwhelmed by the warmth from his chest pressing against mine, the silk of my gown brushing against his suit, the gentle touch of his breath across eyelashes. I must manage to let out some soft sound in response, unable to find the right words as he continues to guide me with his gloved hands.
Those damn gloved hands. How can his hand span from my tailbone all the way up to the place my bra strap would rest if I was wearing one. The cut of this gown does not allow it of course, leaving nothing but the sensation of that damn glove against my bare skin.
"Letting me lead." He clarifies, his voice filled with a hint of satisfaction and a touch of playfulness.
"Yes, well, you have better spatial recognition than most." I reply, finally reigning in my wits.
"What a compliment, though that is more from duel training than Madame Gigi's ballroom sessions," he explains.
"Oh? She didn't blindfold the boys and have you guided around the room?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
"No, she certainly did not." He responds, a different hint of amusement now in his voice.
"It must have been a trust-building or sensory task particularly for me." I remark, a touch of teasing in my tone.
"Greengrass?" He asks, his voice taking on a more serious note.
"Yes, Malfoy?" I respond, my attention fully captivated.
"Would you like to go for the triple turns?" he asks, his voice filled with a drop of eagerness.
"Oh, yes, please." I reply zealously, my magic once again humming through my bones.
As the music swells to build into the crescendo, Draco's firm grip on my waist becomes even more secure. With a swift and practiced agility he moves us into the ideal location for our series of triple turns. Our bodies remain connected, rotating in synchrony. The world around us a blur of lights and colors. He begins to raise my hand and with a final squeeze on my waist we lock eyes. Those stormcloud eyes I will use as my spot to twirl in and away.
With each rotation, the room comes alive, and the stars below our feet release up as we pass. The masterful charm is triggered by our steps, the disturbance causing sparks of stardust to ignite as we pass.
I am half tempted to give in to the captivating spectacle unfolding beneath our feet. The tiny specks gather and swirl, waving in and out of the layers of my rippling skirt, creating and enchanting interplay of light and motion. I want to linger on the breathtaking sight, however Draco's intense gaze holds mine firm. Urging me to focus on him on our movement.
I smile in acknowledgement of the mischievous glimmer in his eyes, he is going to make the third turn a lift, I simply know it. The thrill builds surging through my limbs as I prepare for what is to come.
As we approach the final rotation, Draco's strength and skill could never be doubted. With a swift fluid motion, he lifts me effortlessly off the ground. He masterfully uses the momentum of my turn, and I feel weightless suspending for a fleeting moment while the dust continues to twinkle around us. Time slows and I do not second guess his choice as he holds me for an extra few counts before controlling my descent.
The final echoes from cellos slice through the applause as breathless couples ease to a stop and prepare to bow for the onlookers.
As the applause continues, we release our hold, chests rise and fall with exhilaration. I let my head dip in a small bow as Draco presents me forward, his fingertips still lingering at the small of my back.
Gathering my hand once more he helps direct me off the floor towards the refreshments.
"Is that smile for me or the audience?" he murmurs slowly, handing me sparkling water infused with mint.
"Oh do not worry, the smile is for you. The lift was amazing."
"So it's not so bad letting someone lead, Little Green."
"No, I suppose it's not so bad." Not feeling bold enough to state that it's him. Not just someone, not just anyone would gain that type of trust. Now that the thrill of the applause dissipates flashes of his touch, and his cooing words resurface.
I take a larger sip from my glass, letting the condensation seep in my fingers. Hoping the heat I am feeling is from the exertion and not a blush. Little Green
"Whatever is going on in that head of yours?" He doesn't like that I can block his probing.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." I did not just say that.
But I did
And he shows me his …
Everyone has their own way to store and share the inner workings of their minds. When you enter it can be a mix of how they see themselves, as well as how you perceive them.
The exact shade of his iris lingers, the atmosphere thick with fog and dew.
Entering Draco's mind is akin to walking on a secluded beach, during the early morning hours, just before dawn. The fog gently rolls from a shore, casting its veil of mystery and tranquility. As I am allowed to venture deeper, a plume of fog begins to recede, revealing a landscape of volcanic-like sand and still, inky waters stretching out in the abyss.
As the curtain of fog continues to dissipate, the dance floor from tonight's event comes into scope, situated far off the shore. The expanse of the galaxy begins to pull closer, its majestic swirls becoming even more vibrant and captivating. Amidst the galactic dance, two figures stand out, moving serenely at the center, their energy orbiting and intertwining as if they are the very essence of the universe.
A moment that Draco chooses to create, reshaping the seconds following our lift. The air crackles with anticipation and a sense of weightless wonder.
And the gloves are finally gone. Everything and everyone is gone. Our clothing gone. Every barrier of linen, wool, and silk faded away into oblivion. As we stand there, exposed and vulnerable, our skin a canvas illuminated by the otherworldly glow.
And I am gone.
I watch my naked body rubbing against his as he once again controls the descent. His large hands taking up most of my torso, veins run just under the skin trailing through the length of his forearm. Engrossed by the intricacies of his arms, captivated by the play of muscles as they work to sustain the movement. The flexors and extensors work in perfect harmony. His upper back and shoulders bulge and clench with each millimeter of my decline. I can remember the statuesque feel under my fingertips. He holds my body suspended press against his, not allowing my feet to touch the floor so we can maintain our eyes at equal height.
My head then tilts back as he licks and bites from my neck along the column from clavicle to jaw. Finally giving in to his fixation during our dance. The tips of my toes are given the chance to touch the floor freeing up his hands to roam. One coming up to frame my jaw keeping my head tilted back and to the side elongated for even more access. His torso curved over mine as he works to compensate for our height difference even though I remain on the balls of my feet. His other hand lowers, those long gloveless fingers skimming over dimples above by bum moving lower to take a firm grip of a cheek. Fingers molding into my flesh, my hips surging forward into his. Our reflection sways upon the starred floor. Just as my leg starts to bend up and his fingers begin to explore behind and lower he breaks the vision.
We are back in the real world, surrounded by hundreds of guests. Some acoustic cover of a popular song I couldn't care less to place fills the air around us.
"Oh," I breath out, and attempt to sift the real from the illusion.
"Speechless now, are we Little Green?" Draco's voice holds a hint of teasing, but as I maintain his gaze I can tell he is not as unaffected as his tone portrays.
Not giving myself a chance to back down, I show him mine.