Comments and votes are love:)
Trigger warnings do apply: mentions of rape. Don't read if you're easily triggered.
November 12, 2004
He'll never understand just why she'd fancy a read over him. Truly.
A romance book of all fucking books.
What attracts her to those kinds of books? The pretty things the guy says to their girl? The sex? Or is it the passionate love written in the pages most want to be a reality for them?
Maybe he'd read a few books in the past.
Whether the book is exciting or not, he wants her attention. Kisses and just anything she'd give him is preferable.
To feel her admiration is the part of his day he always looks forward to. And today, that part hasn't come. Because she's reading a fucking book when he could say and do much better than the characters in those flimsy pages.
He could say things that'll leave her speechless, kiss her and leave her stomach fluttering and utterly breathless, make her feel his intense feelings that'll just leave her with a whole heart.
But interrupting Hermione Granger while she reads is like entering a lion's den with a lion that hasn't eaten in days.
Deadly.
No, it isn't an exaggeration.
He'd nearly died the first time he'd taken a book from her fingers.
She refused to cuddle with him or kiss him the entire day.
Hell is the only word to describe that day.
But fuck if he doesn't need her right now.
And so he thinks, thinks until an idea pops into his head. An idea that can solve his fucking dilemma.
Minutes pass.
Fuck.
More.
Shit.
Minutes or hours?
Uhg.
How long has it been?
She looks beautiful.
She can't possibly read for this long.
I just want to rip that fucking book out of her hands and bury my face in her neck.
Time. Time. Time.
Her eyes have flecks of sweet honey in them.
That's when it hits him.
He heads over to the kitchen, grabs a bag of her favorite crisps.
They're this muggle brand called Doritos. It's an odd name if you asked him, but he'd be damned if they weren't the tastiest thing in the world.
He makes his way towards the couch she lays in. It'd be a lie if he said he wasn't nervous. It's ridiculous, really, and as much as he adores her, he is bloody scared of her.
Her hair is in a knot; it's a proper mess. She wears his old quidditch jersey. It practically swallows her and fuck if she isn't prettiest girl he has ever seen.
She has her lips between her teeth, enchanted by the letters that are love. Her brows are drawn together, probably at odds with what's going on in the book.
He gets to the far end of the couch, stands in front of her, looking down as he gathers himself.
Gods, he hopes this works.
YOU ARE READING
Friends
Romance"I'm giving you an out right now," he pants. Granger's fingers tighten in his hair, and confusion etches in her face. She tries to rock into his hips, and he has to forcefully stop her. "N-no," she stutters, panting like she's run a marathon. She tr...
