Title: Restoring trust
Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Prompt: Hermione Granger and "Your tongue in my mouth, trying to keep the words from coming out" (from 'Lover, I Don't Have to Love' by Bettie Seervert)
Word count: 425
Beta: Thank you very much, leigh_adams !
Summary: Trust is the foundation of a relationship. Any kind of relationship.
A/N: Originally written for hp_humpdrabbles . And, like everything I write lately, it's pure crap.
"Come back!" I scream. The heavy ran soaked my hair, making it plaster against my cheeks.
I'm agitated from running after him, but it sticks in my lungs when he stops in the middle of the street. His elegant robes look weighter against his slim body. His light hair is a few shades darker thanks to the water, and it's unusually untidy. I assume the cause is his habit of ruffling his hands through it when he is frustrated.
"Why?" he screams, not turning to face me. "So you can do the same thing again? So we can do the same all over again? I can't do this anymore, Hermione."
Against my will, tears start burning in my eyes. "Fine! If you want to end it, it's fine by me! I don't need this," I yell back, not realizing he has approached me until his hand pushed a wet lock of my hair away from my forehead.
"I know," he whispers.
And then his closeness overwhelms me. The heat of his soft touch tingles my skin, and I start to forget why are we here in the first place, screaming at each other in the street under the rain.
"No. Don't," I beg with pleading eyes. "I'm serious. This needs to stop, Draco. This-us is more complicated than what I meant. I don't need complicated-"
Suddenly, his tongue is in my mouth, trying to keep the words from coming out. He pushes me against the nearest wall and his hands slid down my back, resting against my bum. The wet cotton of my pants making the touch more intimate than what I would allow in public. But I don't care. I slide my arms around his neck and let him lift me up. My legs instantly wrap around his waist before my mind realizes it. The rain drops in our faces become sweet and warm as we kiss deeply in the middle of the street.
Engulfed in our anger and passion, the desperate kiss robs me of breath much sooner than I would have preferred. Reluctantly, my lips leave his, and our pressed chests raise and fall with our agitated breaths.
"You need to start trusting me, Hermione," he gasps, lying his forehead against mine.
I just nod, knowing it will be hard to remember the old Draco Malfoy was gone. But now, it seems possible. Every fiber of my body wants to believe that as his warm body presses against mine and our breaths mix under the cold autumn rain.