Phrase: 19; 'How do you feel now that you're officially of age?'
Pairing: Dean/Romilda
Rating: T, for intense kissing.
Word Count: 925
Summary: Being of age, being ‘old’, I mean, has its perks.
Author’s Notes: Sorry about the super long wait! Darn writer’s block. _ The tense looks weird in this one, so maybe I’ll fix it when I figure out what’s so wrong. I know something’s wrong with the stupid tense, but I don’t know what it is.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR owns everything, and thank goodness! I’d probably ruin it all.

Being Of Age

-

-

“So,” he said, once my Apparition test was over, and I was allowed to disappear and reappear at different ends of the world if I had to (I just had to have seen the location), “how do you feel now that you’re officially of age?”

I pondered the question for a moment. “Well, first of all, I feel old.”

He laughed outright. “You don’t look old,” he replied.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Yes. Why?”

I blushed, despite myself. “Just asking…” I glanced at him. “And thanks.”

He was the one with me, here at the Ministry of Magic, my supporting friend (what was he to me?) as I took the Apparition test, now that I was officially 17. When I’d emerged from behind the closed examination room, he was right there, waiting for me, making my body shiver with an unknown emotion. I pondered what feeling could elicit such a reaction from me.

His dark eyes smiled at me, his caramel-colored, slender fingers—toned because of the numerous amounts of hours he spent holding a quill to create a spectacular magical portrait of a customer—flitted over my back, and then settled there when I didn’t speed my pace from his touch, gently guiding me into the lift at the very end of the Ministry’s long, narrow hallways.

They weren’t so narrow that I had to press my back against his chest, but, needless to say, I did just that anyway. I could almost see his smirk, but he stayed quiet, refraining from emitting a cocky remark about my need to be close to him. Normally, I never would’ve done what I just did, but I was feeling a bit bold around him now that I knew him better.

Not even my friends had come with me. He did, though, and I felt closer to him. My breathing grew deeper as I stayed pressed up against him, the feeling of his muscled chest prominent on my back, even in the magically enhanced lift—the lift could hold up to 10 people, and only the two of us were on it. I could be on the other side of this elevator, but I was still touching him.

He brought his arms around my waist, surprising me so much that I squeaked, but, still, I didn’t move away. His legs were suddenly moving back, bringing me with him, and then he paused abruptly. I could hear the thud of his own back as he finally reached the back of the elevator.

I turned to face him, his eyes scanning mine, and then my eyes apparently thought the ground to be lovely, and glued their gaze there.

He doesn’t say anything, instead bringing his fingers, resting on my lower back, up my body slowly, making me shiver, and, once he saw my reaction, he smirked. I ignored him.

He said my name, and I felt his fingers caressing my neck, eliciting another delicious shiver making its slow way down my spine, until they reached my chin. Gently, he tugged, my eyes meeting his once again.

“What are you doing to me?” he asked softly.

“I—I don’t know. What are you doing to me? I don’t always do this,”—I gestured to the proximity of our bodies—“but I just feel… safe with you. Like you’d never hurt me.”

His eyes burned, the irises devouring me, and I felt my breath catch as he spoke, “I would never hurt you.”

“I know that,” I whispered, and then he kissed me, right there in the elevator where anyone could come in. It wasn’t as if the lift would break down (it was magical after all), but nobody entered.

His lips were gentle at first, moving at the speed I conducted, but then I was jumping up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he was lifting me using sheer muscle power alone. My head angled forward, deepening our heated, feverish kiss, and my head was swimming with pleasure, passionate kisses tearing out of my lips.

His soft tongue gently brushed over my lips and I allowed him access, moaning into his mouth as he delved in, tasting every crevice of my mouth. He groaned, and my fingers swept into his longer-than-usual, silky dark hair, and then he was copying me, his hands running through my hair; I couldn’t see, I could only feel, and I was caught up in the feeling of him, the taste of him, the delicious animal-like noises roaring out of him, and I forgot about everything but him.

Finally our lack of air broke us apart, and our breathing was labored, almost in sync. I smiled dazedly, and he grinned back, pulling me closer to him as we regained our breathing.

“I like this—you being of age. I can have my way with you.”

I blushed profusely, and he smirked. “Just kidding. Maybe when you’re older, hmm? But, what do you think about going to The Three Broomsticks with me?”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“I guess I am.”

Interlacing our fingers just as the lift doors opened (it felt like an eternity later), I answered him with a kiss as I walked backward, him leading the way, and I mumbled, “Yes,” too occupied to say anything more.

I think we scarred some Ministry workers with our blatant display of affection. One couple (at least, I think it was a couple) did say, “Oh how cute. Young love. Don’t you remember when we did that, William?”

I couldn’t be sure. I was occupied.

-

-

Reviews are love. I’d enjoy the feedback. Thanks!