Personality Whore

5. Can I Slytherin?

5. Can I Slytherin?

"I hate people." I mumbled, referring to Katie and her minions. Then sat down on the worn, brown couch that had occupied our living room for the past seven years. Nick sat beside me, held on his hand was a bag of frozen peas. 

"Does it hurt?" I cooed, taking his sore hand in mine. He winced as I gently prodded the swollen top part of his hand.

"Poor baby!" I continued to coo. He smiled at me, his eyes sparkling.

"Don't make fun, I did it for you." Which he had. "But I would do it again." 

"My hero." I said resting my head on his chest. We sat there. I listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart and the steady tick tock of the clock setting on the mantle above the fire place. 

     Hours passes, but it didn't matter. I was safe in Nick's arms. He had protected me, even though he had gotten hurt himself. I could hear his breath begin to slow, he had fallen asleep. After some time, I glanced at the clock, we had set there for four hours. The clock's belle rang, signalling nine o'clock, waking the boy beside me. I laughed at his bewildered expression. 

     I stood and stretched, his eyes followed me. I needed to actually sleep tonight. I didn't want to sleep on the couch like yesterday night, or spent the whole night crying like last night. 

"Hermione." Nick said, he had taken the frozen bag off of his hand and was now moving it gently. 

"What?" I said looking at him. 

"Where are you going?" he sounded like a small child not wanting to be left alone. 

"To my room to go lay down in bed."  I replied, eyeing him suspiciously. 

"Well," Nick said, he stood in front of me and wrapped his arms around me, a smile on his face. "Can I Slytherin?" 

     I laughed, his joke was stupid. But I could see in his eyes that there was something more behind it. He smiled at me, trying to play it off. 

"Well," I said slowly, not planning on meaning a word of what I said, "If my Dad were to find out that the boy he trusted his daughter with asked to 'slither in' to her bed, he wouldn't like that at all."

     He looked hurt for a moment, then tried to pull out a smile, but failed. He looked pitiful. I took his hand in mine.

"But what Dad doesn't know, won't hurt him." I said with a laugh and led Nick to my room. 

     He looked around my room, knowing he was breaking my father's only rule. He had not been allowed in my room since sixth grade. Now he was spending a second night here in a row. His arms were around my waist, gently holding me. 

"Nick." I whispered to him. He looked at me, his eyes full of what could only be described as love. 

"I have to tell you." His voice was just a whisper. A tender hand caressed my face. 

"I am in love with you Hermione. I have been for seven years." He said it softly, as if he was afraid I would recoil from his touch. 

     Something deep inside me felt as if it was swelling. The warmth flooding through me was indescribable. His arms held me close, his hand still gently caressing my face. I rested my hands on his chest and looked up into his eyes. He had put out all his cards. He had put our fates in my hands. I could see the love in his eyes. 

     His face moved towards me slowly, closing the distance between us. I felt his soft lips press against mine, gently trying to coax a reaction out of me. I melted into the arms of my best friend and held him close. My mind was fuzzy, all I could think about were his lips on mine, his arms holding me, his hands caressing me. He was everything I had ever dreamed about having.