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Robb's lips are rose petals against Hermione. His mouth scatters around her body, making sure to touch each and every scar littered again her light caramel skin. And she can't help but to send up a prayer to the gods, something along the lines of.
Please, please, please let me keep him just a little while longer.
But she knows the Gods don't bargain with the damned. And she knows she's stopped praying since the age of thirteen because her prayers had never been answered before, yet his hands are so soothing she all but forgets this.
"We have been off at war for far too long." The King's lips press against the bruise painted along her thigh. "Let me take you home," Robb whispers. "Let me bring you home."
And Hermione wants to succumb to his vows, but the man she adored before him never kept his oaths so she can't help but wonder.
And she knows battle begins again at dawn, but maybe for just one night.
