𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀

☾ Chapter 38

☾

Hermione adored waking up under his grasp.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist, soft and slow breaths against her ear as she hummed awake, the world drowning in silence as they lay half asleep, eyes groggy from late nights and blinding sun.

No screams could be heard from inside the little cabin, far away, tucked in the back of the wood.

It was a blanket of blissful ignorance.

"What's this between us, Granger?" Draco finally murmured into her ear, fingers tracing against the soft skin of her waistline.

"I thought we agreed on alliances," she exclaimed gently, twisting over to face him. Their noses brushed against one another's in the morning sun, beams of light making her caramel colored curls glow.

"I don't know if that's enough for me," he muttered, pulling her closer by the hips. He was much larger than her, hands encompassing nearly all of her torso when he held her. Even so, their egos were all the same, and she had no trouble following up his stubbornness with even more adamancy.

Draco had met his match.

"Well, what do you think is enough?"

"Friends," he continued, brows furrowing at the bitter taste of the word on his tongue, "But that doesn't feel quite right either."

"Companions," Hermione pondered, legs tangling with his under the bedsheets. They were soft and warmed from a good night's rest, green quilt discarded and ruffled by their feet.

"Lovers," Draco whispered faintly. That word was smooth, melting like rich chocolate in his mouth. Sweet with a tang of tart fruit, a delicacy devised to imitate perfection.

He loved the way it made crimson dance across her rosy cheeks, eyelashes fluttering downwards. He'd never seen her become so incredibly shy.

"That's quite a strong word coming from your vocabulary," she finally said, sounding as though she might choke on her own words.

"Do you like it?"

"I adore it," she smiled, pleasantly surprised that he had come up with something so simple, yet special.

"Lovers it is then," he spoke quietly, brushing a long curl from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. Her skin was soft, comforting to his overworked, calloused fingertips.

"Draco-"

His lips pressed gently against hers, warmth fluttering in his chest, vision and mind blinded by emotion he refused to name aloud.

When he pulled away his hand was still against her jaw, but her eyes tilted downwards, an almost disappointed look plastered across her complexion.

He watched as droplets brewed along her lashes.

"What's wrong, Granger?"

Hermione bit her lip in thought, huffing as she looked away from his gaze.

"You do know how this is going to end," she whispered, glassy hues meeting his own, "I'm afraid — I'm afraid we're never getting out of here."