𝟑𝟏

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July.

A kiss with Draco tastes like raspberry lemonade.

𝐉 𝐔 𝐋 𝐘.
A year and a half ago.

On that day, the sun burned mercilessly, heating the surface of the earth and making almost all living creatures to hide in the cool shade to relieve weakness from the unbearable heat and stuffiness.

For the place where they lived, such heat was unusual, even abnormal, but Faith seemed to like it.

She enjoyed the golden hours spent in her pool, when the coolness of the water contrasted with the heat of the sunburn on her shoulders, when the water splashing mixed with the sound of cicadas whispering, sounding like music to her ears, and when the whole world seemed to cease to exist, giving her peace of mind alone.

Actually, she was not alone, but the person who was sitting on the sunbed next to her did not cause inconvenience and discomfort — she enjoyed his company, as well as she enjoyed the sun.
They were alone together, and found in such solitude even more than the peace of mind.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, placing his hand over his eyes to create a kind of visor. He watched as Faith sat on her sunbed, her leg bent at the knee in front of her. Water was dripping from her hair, leaving wet spots on the towel, and her hands were doing some kind of manipulation with her toes.

Draco sat up, moving closer to her, trying not to linger on her tanned bare skin, which sparkled in the sun with small drops of water, but all attempts were in vain — he liked the combination of her caramel skin with the canary color of her swimsuit, and there was nothing he could do.

"I'm painting my toenails." She said in a quiet voice, trying not to make unnecessary movements, so as not to smear the varnish of a dark blue, shining color.

Her lower lip was between her teeth from effort and diligence, and as soon as she finished the last toenail, her lips stretched into a radiant smile as her gaze shifted to Draco.

"I like the color of the night sky." She said then, twisting the lid of a small bottle of nail polish, and placing it on a small glass table on the other side of her, she stretched out her legs, allowing the sun to pour the gold of its rays on her skin again.

"Why didn't you just use your wand for that? Where did you even get this thing?" Draco asked, wincing from the sun, his gaze again unconsciously skimmed the entire length of her legs, and he swallowed hard, hoping that she didn't notice his little weakness.

"If you constantly use a wand, you can completely forget how to use your hands, you know?" Faith grunted, her hands then twisted her wet hair into a tight braid, allowing the water to pour in a stream onto the grass.

She carefully looked at him out of the corner of her eye; wheels were already spinning in her head from thoughts of whether she could trust him with her secret — her secret pastime, and eventually, she exhaled softly with resignation — of course, she trusted him.

"And this thing, nail polish," She began to speak, ruffling her hair at the roots to hide her nervousness, "My friend gave it to me."

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