The thought alone made him feel physically sick. Things were irrevocably different now; he had seen her bare and uninhibited, and whether they liked it or not, they owned a part of each other. Even when the fingerprints on his shoulders and the dents in his lip had disappeared, the memories would still be there; crisp and clear, and ready for him replay whenever he liked. And the fact of the matter was he wanted more memories, but Merlin knew his pride had already taken a battering this morning.
"And I suppose you want my answer now?"
He heard her sniff behind him. "You have the weekend," she murmured gently. "I want an answer by Monday."
Hermione watched him square his shoulders and push open the door, leaving her behind with the evidence of their intimacy; crumpled sheets and the smell of lust misting the air. She sat at the window and brushed aside her tears, counting snowflakes in a futile effort to detract from how vulnerable she felt at that moment.
She knew that he felt something for her; he had blurted it out himself, and his tenderness from last night had made her feel so safe, but she knew how stubborn he could be. She honestly had no idea if he would choose to stay, or decide that their liaison had gone too far, but she knew that if he left, it would devastate her. She almost regretted her ultimatum, but she refused to look at him everyday and feel discarded; used and then tossed aside because of his crushing pride.
If he chose to remain here, it would be enough for her.
.
.
By Sunday evening, Draco was ready to have a hernia.
Granger had left on Saturday morning, no more than an hour after she had dealt him the option of leaving, and she had yet to return. He had no idea where she'd stayed, but at one point, he had actually found himself concerned that something might have happened to her. Logic had caught up with him, and he'd realised that McGonagall would have paid him a visit by now if that had been the case, but nevertheless, his consideration for her well-being had sobered him immensely.
It would have been sensible to accept Granger's offer of an alternate prison and go cold-turkey, but in reality, it had never been an option. She had somehow gone from being the most irritating aspect of this hell, to the reason he was still sane. Without her, he knew that he would crumble like sea-shattered cliffs. He wanted to touch her again; craved her actually, although he had no idea why.
It just…made sense.
He came to the conclusion that it was simply a bi-product of his isolation, and if he needed her to steady his mind until he escaped Hogwarts, then so be it. Once he was free, things would return to normal, and nobody would ever know about his disgraceful behaviour.
Everything that happens in this room remains between us.
He heard the main door open and close, and he listened intently to the tell-tale footsteps of his witch as she went to her room. He could discern the sounds of her shuffling around for a few moments, before she was on the move again, heading to the bathroom this time, and flicking on the shower. The familiar beats of falling clothes roused reminiscent flashbacks of Friday night, and images of navy gowns and olive skin flashed across the backs of his lids.
He thought twice, and then once more before he was on his feet; dangerous intentions making him stiff between the hips.
He'd spent too long imagining her showers.
He crept silently towards the bathroom, hoping that she had forgotten to lock the door, and luck was apparently on his side today. He slipped inside and took a healthy gulp of the cherry-scented steam, carefully beginning to discard his clothes as he eyed Granger's oblivious shadow dancing across the shower-curtain.
His pulse was throbbing loudly in his ears by the time he removed his boxers to the first of Granger's bathroom moans, and he eagerly padded across the floor, and stepped into the cubicle.
He stared at her naked back, following the droplets of water that trickled from her long tresses and landed at the charming dimple just above her buttocks, before sliding down her shapely legs. He reached out to touch her, but the moment his fingers grazed her skin, she whipped around with terrified eyes and feeble attempts to hide her precious parts.
He managed to muffle her scream with a hasty kiss, enjoying the odd sensation of shower-drops gliding between their lips. Hermione squirmed for a few seconds, but she yielded when his thumbs skimmed down the column of her neck and drew feather-soft patterns just under her ears. He slowly pushed her against the tiled wall and frowned when he felt her break the kiss and brace her hands against his chest.
"What are you doing?" she asked between heavy breaths.
It's just until you get out of here…
With the security of his deluded mindset that this would all evaporate once he was out of her room, he set his jaw and gave her a decisive look.
"I'm staying."
.
.
.
📖For everyone who wants to read it in full📖
👇🏼It will be available on my Ko-Fi and my Patreon👇🏼
‼️ko-fi.com/skyarc/shop‼️
—————————————————————
✅Subscribe now if you want to get all the PDFs available on my page.✅