ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 79

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Warning: Mature Chapter

𝕽omie's willingness as he hoists her up into his arms threatens his heart with explosion.

It's silly, how a simple motion that makes life easier fitting through the doorway together at the same time makes him feel this way, but it's the first time. The first time his arms have banded beneath her, lifting, the first time she's looped arms and legs around him, no intentions of letting him go anytime soon. He's catching, she's never letting go.

"Mine or yours?"

Which room, which bed will she feel more comfortable in, that's what he's asking. Romie's not awfully fond of the ideology of keeping her best interests at heart, the phrase thrown in her face far too many times by those who claim it such when they're merely looking for an excuse to tell her to get lost. He's the exception. Because he needs no excuse for putting something in front of her, she's what's in front of him. He only sees her. Her and her comfort.

"Yours"

Romie feels just as surprised as Regulus looks at the words coming from her mouth. Him in her bed, tangled up in her sheets means there's a strong chance the alluringly dark and masculine, unbelievably lulling aroma belonging to him will cling to the fabric, cling to her for days. The same goes for her, his. And for some strange reason, Romie feels more giddy at the thought of being able to smell herself on him.

A thought that Regulus doesn't feel too reluctant about. Not even a little bit, not even at all. The reason why he doesn't waste another second, beginning to walk them in the direction of the dorm he'd been left with after Romie called first dibs during McGonagall's quick tour around. Patience not one of her strong suits, Romie fits her lips to his before they're even through the door, laughing quietly against them when he abandons one handed futile fumbles with the lock and boots it swing open with one swift kick of his foot.

Neither pull away to inspect the damage of the loud colliding crash, confident in their magical abilities to fix anything afterwards. Or leave them as a show token of their enthusiasm. It's been too long. Too long since they've been together in a way that bonds their souls like no other. Too long since he's heard his name drip whimperingly from her sweet lips.

Regulus kneels on the mattress edge, gently lowering her down slap bang in the centre, head rested nicely on both fluffed pillows. She deserves no less, the centre of the bed, the centre of attention, the centre of his universe. Her hands cup his jaw, leaving him no choice but to lower himself down too, submit to the not so subtle flirtations of her tongue, let her have her fun before he gets down to business.

His teeth drag across her lower lip and tug, earning the first moan of many to come. They do like their tallies and bumping them up as high as possible. Romie whines quietly when her needy push forward for further access is denied, Regulus reluctantly pulling away, reminding of the overall incentive here. Him taking care, him showing, proving how much he cares. If she's not drowning in his unconditional affection afterwards, then consider his job not finished. Consider her not finished.

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