Heโs giving me that look like he thinks Iโm overreacting, and whatโs that about when heโs such a dramatic bitch and Iโm sitting over here actually being nagged to death by my friends and harrassed by Ravenclaws that couldnโt flirt their way out of a moderated sized hatchback.
He steps right into my space like he owns it. โFloppy,โ he drawls. He reaches for my face and I canโt tell what heโs doing but apparently Iโm going to let him anyway, and I end up with those long pale fingers cupping my chin and his grey eyes pinning me where I stand. His touch is soft and cool and I wonder if I could shake it off. If I want to. โCalm down,โ he purrs, soft, so only I can hear him.
It occurs to me then that thereโs no one else here to hear anyway. Weโre alone in the common room, which almost never happens, or at least hasnโt happened before. More importantly, weโre alone and Draco is touching my face andโ and heโs just standing there still, looking at me. Heโs very close. His gaze flicks from one of my eyes to the other. Drops to my mouth for not even a second, half-hidden by a blink.
โOkay,โ I say, but I think it might be impossible because my insides feel a bit queer and I might throw up or something.
โEr, no. Not really.โ
โBreathe, Potter,โ he sighs. โThink happy thoughts.โ
I canโt remember how to do either of those things so I close my eyes, inhale, worry about exhaling all over him and what I had for lunch and how I shouldโve brushed my teeth before I came back except of course I couldnโt because my toothbrush is in my dorm, not in the fucking corridor and why the fuck is he still touching me? And why does it feel like this, like my heart will beat so fast it explodes and I might just combust in a poof of red and gold coloured dust like the worst, most cowardly, Gryffindor in the world.
โIs it working?โ he asks after a moment. โIโd hate to have to do something drastic.โ
Five percent of me has a really keen idea of what that something drastic might be and I give it the reins before the other ninety-five can ruin it. โYou might as well try it,โ I say. โCanโt hurt.โ
โIf you insist,โ he says, and itโs barely words, a whisper of breath across my lips and and a rustle of fabric and my chin is tilted up and heโs on me. His lips press soft against my own. His hand holds me still. He waits.
My heart is gone. Exploded or stopped, I donโt know. I canโt focus on anything but the places where we touch, and theyโre too passive, too small, too polite. I step in, typical Gryffindor, and push at him, opening my mouth under his. I think I feel him gasp. Then his tongue. His hand snaking around my waist, pulling my hips closer. Reality disappears slowly. I donโt realise weโre moving til he stumbles and knocks against the couch and we break apart, panting for breath.
โDid that work, then?โ he huffs a laugh, nervous.
โNot at all,โ I say. โTry again.โ
vaporwave
origamiaround
romaincrisis
areudirty
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
