"Not forest green like hers, but chocolate brown like hers"

Chapter 8

Hermione stirred from her slumber as gentle rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow upon the room. She blinked blearily, reluctant to leave the comfort of her bed, relishing in the cocoon of warmth and tranquility. Stretching languidly, she reached out instinctively, expecting to find James beside her, but her hand met only the coolness of the sheets.

A faint frown creased her brow as she sat up, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her senses. Despite the temptation to sink back into the soft embrace of her pillows, she couldn't shake the nagging sense of curiosity about James' whereabouts. Had he already left? The thought brought a twinge of disappointment and sadness, though she couldn't quite pinpoint why.

Just as she contemplated indulging in a few more minutes of solitude, the door creaked open, drawing her attention. In stepped James, shirtless and tousled, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. Her cheeks flushed involuntarily at the sight, her mind racing back to the events of the previous night. He carried a tray laden with breakfast—a tantalizing array of fruits, pastries, and steaming coffee—his presence filling the room with an electrifying energy. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the subtle aroma of his cologne, creating an intoxicating blend that enveloped her senses.

"Good morning, Angel," he greeted, his voice laced with playful teasing as he set the tray down beside her on the bed. "Did you sleep well?"

Hermione nodded, her gaze darting away momentarily before meeting his once more. "Yes, thank you," she murmured, her voice betraying a hint of shyness. He chuckled, his gaze lingering on her flushed cheeks with amusement.

"Not getting shy on me, are you now?" he teased, his voice carrying a playful lilt.

She attempted to muster a retort, but the warmth of his touch as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear rendered her momentarily speechless. His lips met hers in a brief, tender kiss, sending a rush of heat coursing through her veins. When he pulled away, a soft, affectionate smile graced his lips, his eyes twinkling with affection.

"Of course not," she replied clearing her throat, her cheeks still tinged with a rosy hue.

"You're adorable when you blush,"

She rolled her eyes playfully, though she couldn't suppress the fluttering sensation in her chest at his words. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she retorted.

"Got me everywhere I ever wanted last night, Angel"

Hermione's cheeks flamed with embarrassment at his teasing retort, her eyes narrowing in mock indignation. "You're incorrigible," she huffed, swatting at him with a playful slap.

James caught her wrists delicately, pinning them down to the bed with a gentle firmness. His touch sent a shiver down her spine, her breath catching in her throat as his lips brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck. She bit her lip, suppressing a gasp as a wave of pleasure washed over her.

"Want me to remind you?" he whispered huskily, his breath hot against her skin as he peppered soft kisses along the column of her neck. Each touch ignited a fire within her, a primal longing that pulsed through her veins with a relentless intensity. In that moment, there was only James—the heat of his body, the rhythm of his breath, the exquisite pleasure of his touch.

"James," she protested weakly, though the plea in her voice was drowned out by the rush of desire that pulsed through her veins. A soft moan escaped Hermione's lips as his lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. She arched against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

"As much as I'd like to continue with this," he murmured, his voice filled with affection, "I've made this breakfast myself and it would be a shame if it got cold." A tender smile graced James' lips as he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss against her forehead.