The Fallout by EveryThursday (reposted)

Eight

Day: 1073; Hour: 13

He was infuriating, and she wondered if he was doing it on purpose. She had analyzed everything over the past few days, from the way he looked at her, to the tone of his voice, to his body language. She had been looking for clues to try and decide just what he was feeling, or what he thought, but he didn't give her any that she could take for fact. She was beginning to think the random moment in the kitchen was simply a one-time deal, a simple lapse of sanity, and that perhaps she should forget about the whole thing.

Except she couldn't. She had been kissed before, many times, but couldn't drag a memory of feeling up quite like the one she had experienced with him. She wasn't sure if it was because of how he kissed her, or if it was just because of who he was - who she was. There was something very wrong about it, but exciting all the same, and she liked it. Malfoy was a mystery, and she had no idea if that was because he liked to be, he didn't want anything to do with her, or if he was just using this as a way to annoy her. All three were likely.

The funny thing about those rare situations where two people block one another's route, and then try to sidestep each other by going in the same direction, was that you knew exactly what was happening but couldn't stop. Hermione knew when she stepped to the right that he would as well, and she knew he would go to the left after, but she still went to the left herself. They repeated the routine once more before he stood still and glowered down at her, and Hermione - who had come to think he was doing everything with the purpose to annoy her - stood still and glared back up at him.

"Do I have to move you myself?"

"You could easily move yourself, let me by, and then continue on your way."

"Are you always this immature?"

"Do you always think the world has to bend to your way?" she snaps back.

"Ridiculous," he mutters lowly, braces a hand on her hip, and pushes her aside as he moves forward.

She glares and pulls his hand off, and maybe she holds onto his hand a few seconds longer than needed, but he doesn't pull it away either. She makes her way to her teacup, her senses busy trying to track his location behind her, but the back door clicks and then she is alone.

Day: 1079; Hour: 10

"Oh, God," she breathes, his lips on her neck. He moves back to the spot that caused the words to slip, sucking harder, nipping her with his teeth.

It had been one week since they first kissed, and when he turned from the bathroom door and bumped into her, she suddenly couldn't control her reaction. She has been a bundle of nerves since last week, waiting for something to happen when nothing had. By the way he was kissing her back now, and all over her, she thinks that maybe he hadn't lost interest, but instead had been waiting for this. For her to make the move this time.

He is almost too much for her to handle. She had never felt so out of control and devoured by another person with just kissing, and it made her dizzy. Later, she will be nervous that he could cause such volatile reactions from her.

He has kept his hands on the decent parts of her as of yet, but his hand is creeping up along her ribs now, the fingertips on the other skimming along her waistband, and she wasn't sure how to feel about it. Hermione didn't think she was ready to let him touch her so intimately, and the unsure feelings made her pull away.

His eyes were dark, mouth swollen, cheeks flushed. He looked at her in a way that she cannot recall a person ever doing before, and it caused her stomach to twist and her breath to catch. His hand is fisted in her shirt at the back, but he doesn't pull her back, waiting and watching for her to do what she wants.