8.
Miss Hardbroom bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair
Severus wakes in an empty bed with the promise of sunlight peeking through a crack in the curtains. He is instantly disappointed at the lack of Hecate's lithe body in his arms.
Before he can give too much thought to where she might be, he hears a sound that might be blinds, then feels carefully maintained nails trailing down the exposed skin of his upper arm. He almost shivers with the delight of it.
He hears a mug being set down on the bedside table, and his lip twitches with appreciation. Hecate, after hesitating, not knowing the boundaries of the intimacy they've shared, perches on the edge of the bed, combs his hair back from his temple and kisses the rise of his cheekbone.
"You need to get dressed, Severus. We have to be at work in thirty-two minutes." A low groan pulls itself from the back of Severus' throat.
"Must we?" He mumbles, eyes still sealed shut. Later in the day, Severus will wonder why he didn't take every chance he had this morning to look at her.
"I believe we must." She confirms. Severus feels her rise from the bed, and this activates him. He opens his eyes into the now bright room and turns, catching her arm as she moves away. Severus has decided today is important, decided that he needs to remember her exactly this way. She's summer and a cyclone all at once. How did it take him so long to let him himself want her?
Today she's in a well-cut black dress with a fine pinstripe through it, knee length and boat necked. Their eyes catch in daylight for the first time in almost twelve hours, and Hecate is relieved to find that he studies her with the same hunger he did in the toilet cubicle last night. There's something more to the look in his eye than hunger, though; something she daren't name in case she's wrong. His fingers are still around her wrist, a pleasant pressure, and she can't bring herself to move. Severus rises to a sitting position, loosens his fingers and passes her hand to his other one so he's free to hold both. He draws her in, and a smirk overtakes her lips as she recognises where he's trying to lead them. Hecate sits on the edge of the bed again, draping her arms over his shoulders.
"We don't have time," she murmurs, kissing him – kissing him with a kind of easy ownership that she's never experienced before. Severus runs his hands through her hair, something he enjoyed doing immensely last night, and is even happier to do now he can see the soft black waves falling about her shoulders in the daylight. Everything about Hecate is practical, but for her hair. Severus is captivated by the silky sheet of it hanging down to her waist.
"You are lovely." Severus tells her this in a tone of indisputable fact, like he's telling her alkali metals react with water.
"Not a descriptor I hear often." Hecate retorts, her tone soft and warm. Few people have the luxury of Hecate like this, and Severus is aware of how lucky he is. But Hecate, too, is experiencing something rare – the affection of Severus Snape. His hands are delicate as they move over her, as they brush her hair over one of her shoulders so he can kiss the fragile skin of her neck. He can see her pulse beating beneath it.
Combing her fingers through his hair Hecate slows him, draws his face from her neck. She dusts her lips against his before murmuring "work," and rising again.
"I did intend to leave enough time to go home and change." Severus says as he scans the room for his briefs.
Hecate steps into a pair of black court shoes and crosses back to the bathroom to apply her makeup and arrange her hair into her signature bun. As she studies herself in the mirror Hecate murmurs with a wry smile "The road to hell is paved with good intentions."
Severus doesn't say it, but at this moment he would happily follow her straight into the seventh circle of it.
It takes Hecate only three minutes to fasten her hair and trace her mouth with her signature crimson lipstick. Hecate catches a glimpse of him, naked in the daylight as he gathers his clothes, and the smile on her lips becomes decidedly smug. She doesn't remember the last time she enjoyed someone's body quite as much as she did last night. She is already itching to touch him again. She is about to vacate the bathroom so he can shower when she feels him draw up behind her. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and while Hecate smirks at him, Severus' face is serious, eyes sharp as if he's undertaking a complex experiment. He turns his head, inhales the scent of her clean hair greedily, kisses her temple, her cheek, her throat. His arms have curled around her of their own accord. Hecate turns in his grasp and runs her hands over the warm plane of his back. While she's inclined to stay in this position, Hecate's practicality overtakes her romantic inclinations.
"We have twenty-one minutes. And you need to shower."
"Charming." Severus drawls. His lips give him away by kicking into a smirk.
"I would kiss that smile from your lips, Severus, if I thought we had time to remove the lipstick." He kisses her cheek again, earnestly, like a full stop. His mouth on her is the conclusion to a sentence he didn't know he was writing. With that, he peels away and turns the shower on.
"I wouldn't bother with the cold," Hecate remarks. "The hot will barely do the job."
"Thank you for the local knowledge." Severus says over his shoulder. Now his attention is less preoccupied with Hecate, Severus takes the time to be pleasantly surprised by her rental. It's not the grandest thing he's ever seen, but it's certainly nicer than flat he's renting, which is serviceable at best. There is some heritage character to hers that he finds endearing. This is the thought running through his head while he washes last night off his skin with Hecate's soap. Later on in the day he'll notice the smell of her on him, and it will take even Severus' superior intellect minutes to put together that it's the cake of soap that's done it rather than his mind playing tricks.
"Do you need a toothbrush?" Hecate asks through the bathroom door. Severus thanks her for the offer and accepts it. Once he concentrates on any flavour in his mouth beyond her, Severus realises he does indeed taste rancid, like cheap gin and tonic. Hecate leaves the toothbrush on the basin for him and tells him she'll be downstairs.
He finds her sitting primly at the kitchen table. He is shirtless and wearing yesterday's socks, his shirt, shoes and cup of tea in his hands. Hecate is bathed in the bright morning light; even doing something as simple as sipping tea, she looks ethereal, otherworldly.
"You haven't washed your hair." She says, unable to suppress a slight frown at the grease in it.
"There wasn't time for it to dry."
"You could have used my hair dryer."
It's an eminently practical suggestion, but it makes his brain whir and grind with confusion. Severus sets his tea on the table rather than answering her. "Iron?"
"In the cupboard." She gestures down the little hallway. While he's moving off, she offers to make him toast. It's been a very long time since someone made Severus breakfast, and even though he usually forgoes it, today he accepts. He walks back still buttoning the precisely creaseless shirt on, unwilling to be away from her longer than he has to. Hecate studies him while he buttons the shirt, his chest disappearing from her view. Hecate's life has been marked by rigidity, but this – whatever it is between them – is the first soft thing Hecate has felt in years. Hecate thinks about reaching for him, then finds herself so distracted by the fact of the impulse that she misses her opportunity. Tie secured around his neck, Severus sits and picks up a piece of toast she's made him.
"I haven't poisoned it, Severus." Hecate quips after watching him nibble dubiously at it.
"I don't remember the last time I ate breakfast – particularly the last time someone made it for me." It's a lie, though. Severus remembers clearly the last time his former fiancé tried to force a plate of scrambled eggs on him - an attempt at an act of love before they fell spectacularly apart. He had had two mouthfuls, kissed her with a wry smile and made the pleasant drive to the glorious institution where he used to be employed. That was six weeks before Lily had told him she'd fallen in love with another civil servant, that she'd be moving out.
Severus comes back to the room, to the woman before him. Where Lily had been all softness, Hecate's softness is carefully guarded. It has made uncovering it an immeasurably satisfying process. Severus rises and trails his fingers over her cheek, lightly, wonderingly. His eyes find hers, large and dark and enticing. She can't keep the surprise out of them; it's been a long time since someone touched her with such intent.
Severus dips his head, remembers her lips are off limits at the last moment and kisses her cheek. Reluctantly he murmurs "We should go."
Hecate makes an unenthusiastic noise of assent, rises and slides a jacket over her arms. They walk to the car, bodies remaining close, hands brushing of their own accord. Hecate's desire to be near him has taken her by complete surprise, but she suspects the impulse won't pass any time soon.
They chat easily for the twenty-six minutes it takes them to get to work– the traffic makes the journey far slower than last night. "I don't think it's wise for us to arrive together." Severus remarks when they're five minutes from school gates. Hecate pulls the Mazda over, slowly. Severus has not spent enough time in a car with her yet to appreciate how out of character steady deceleration and a textbook stop is from the woman sitting beside him. She doubts she's done such a thing since she passed her driving test.
Severus hesitates before getting out of the car, wondering where the lines of intimacy lie between us at this moment. One of his hands is already on the handle, but his touch is light, and his brain is far from giving his fingers the required instruction to open the door. His hesitation hangs heavy in the car, and then the words come out of his mouth without his permission, in much the same way Hecate experienced the night before.
"May I see you tonight?"
Hecate's lips quirk, her head turns to him. There's a glimmer promise in her eyes. "You may." She reaches for his face across the car, fingers feather-light on his skin. Severus leans across the little car and kisses her delicately. An unfamiliarly soft smile pulls itself across Hecate's mouth while they are still close enough for him to feel her lips move. Hecate fishes a tissue from her handbag, which is sitting at his feet. She passes it to him and waits until he's cleaned the lipstick from his mouth.
"Satisfactory?"
Hecate considers him playfully. "Yes, I suppose you'll do."
They share a smirk, and Severus mutters "Later."
"Later." Hecate agrees. She peels off the shoulder of the road with considerably less caution than she pulled onto it.
When Severus next sights Hecate, she is making coffee in the staff room. She reaches for a second mug – as has become their custom – but now the action seems loaded, like it will give them away. Severus senses her hesitation, glides up and takes over from her. Hecate remains convinced people can sense the change in them. In reality, every member of staff is far too busy calculating the time until they are released for the summer holidays to give their least sociable colleagues a passing thought.
Hecate and Severus cruise through the day, a balance of autopilot and absolute focus. They are so overcautious about contact with each other that they don't even chance their regular cigarette breaks in the second-floor loos. Hecate is uncomfortable to find herself positively itching to see him by the end of the day. They linger in the staff room, waiting for the other teachers to make their usual dash to the pub before they speak.
"My day has been excruciatingly long without our nicotine assignations." Severus remarks from halfway across the empty staff room while Hecate gathers her things from her locker.
Hecate turns her head towards him, "It has been tedious." He crosses to lean against the block of lockers beside her, and Hecate abandons sorting her old papers to touch his cheek. Severus drops one of his hands to her waist and draws her closer to him.
"Dinner?" He proposes.
Hecate doesn't point out that it's only quarter past five. Instead she asks, "Do you have somewhere in mind?"
"Sugo?"
"Are you trying to ruin my reputation?"
"Yes." He drawls with a wry smile. Hecate shakes her head minutely. Severus forgets himself and kisses her, accidentally branding himself with her lipstick for the second time today and making Hecate smirk at him. He catches her expression and wipes his mouth roughly with his palm. "May I suggest you procure some form of smudge-proof lipstick?"
"I will reassess your request in a week if it still seems necessary."
"I would expect nothing less of the strictest disciplinarian in South West England."
Severus had not acknowledged it at the time, but when Hecate first took him to Sugo, jealousy had reared within him at Bruno the manager's overly keen interest in her. Severus knows, intellectually, it's far too early in whatever this is to be possessive of her, but he finds his fingers seeking the small of her back as he guides her to the same table up the back.
Where Bruno had struggled to put his finger on the dynamic between the two last time they were here, the shift is more blatant than a billboard – and not just because of Severus' hand on her. Hecate seems properly relaxed for the first time in the dozens of times she's been here. Her body pitches towards Severus, just subtly, almost by accident. Her fingers seek the backs of his when they part to take their seats. Tonight, Hecate does not blow out the candle after they have lit their cigarettes.
"Just the wine list again?" Bruno offers, observing the moment Hecate and Severus' eyes meet and she delegates the talking to him.
"Food, as well, tonight, I think."
Hecate can't help the quirk of her lips. Whatever it is they're engaged in, they have fallen into it with an ease Hecate has never experienced before.
When Hecate slips to the bathroom, Bruno hovers around the table until Severus looks at him with a dangerously quirked eyebrow.
"So are you and the old girl…?"
Severus continues to glower at him.
"You know, I just haven't ever seen her eat with someone." Severus' silence remains icy. "Just, y'know, I've always been quite keen on her. And me mum's a big fan."
"Is that so?"
Bruno misinterprets Severus' tone and offers a response where Severus wanted none. "Absolutely. Always hoped she'd go out with me, actually."
Severus gives Bruno his most unnerving stare and suddenly Bruno excuses himself, claiming their food is ready. Severus thinks he must be losing his touch, for that to have taken so long.
Hecate intuits more of this than he'd anticipated when she returns to the table.
"Why do I get the sense you're about to give someone a particularly painful detention?"
Severus looks at her, properly looks at her rather than glances at her like the rest of the people who share her company in Bristol. He doubts he'll ever determine all the precise factors that make Hecate Hardbroom such a singular creature, but he is eager to spend his time considering it. Right now, that seems far more important than entering into a discussion about Bruno's designs on her.
His mouth softens as he takes her in. "I assure you, I have no plans other than spending the evening with you."