Thirty-Six

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Day: 1506; Hour: 11

She glances up at the fluttering sound of leaves, watching the breeze dance through the trees out the kitchen window. Her hands still from their furious scrubbing of the dishes, the steam from the water making her even more sweaty. She closes her eyes as the breeze sweeps through the window, rolling across her heated skin. Some of her curls escape the hazardous looking bush of frizz clipped to the top of her head, and they stick to her skin.

She breathes in deeply, opening her eyes at the sound of padding bare feet behind her. She almost drops her mug at the fingertips on her legs, inching up the skirt of her summer dress. He presses against her back, his hands pushing farther up.

"You know, one of these days I'm going to think someone is trying to molest me, and do you some serious physical damage." He doesn't respond to this at all, and she wonders if he's trying to freak her out. "I know it's you."

"I would bloody well hope so," he says with a sneer, a bit disgruntled. Probably because his hand had taken the liberty of cupping her through her underwear, and if she didn't know it was him, she should have stopped the person back at the fingertips stage.

She hurries to wash the soap off her cup, and he tucks his face into her neck, his stomach moving against her back as he breathes in deep. Your scent is everywhere, she remembers, and presses tighter against him. She raises her shoulder in an attempt to push him out, because she probably reeks of sweat and she feels gross. He doesn't budge, brushing his nose against her jaw, and then his tongue swipes at her skin. He breathes out what might be a laugh at her noise of protest, wrapping his arms around her waist when she tries to wiggle away.

She frowns, her eyebrows furrowing as he kisses to the strap at her shoulder. She wiggles again, and he wiggles back, catching the strap in his mouth and pulling it down. "Draco..."

"No one else is here."

"I know, they left this morning, but--"

"We'll hear them if they come back."

"I know." She studies the feel of him through the thin material again, and turns her head toward his questing mouth. "Are you naked?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She laughs at him, and his lips curve in a smile against her chin before meeting her own. The kiss is lazy and sweet, like the ones they sometimes share in the morning, when they're both too groggy but need it anyway. The hot day, combined with their body heat against one another, is creating a fever between them. It covers their bodies like an actual pressure, making movement feel like a lot of effort. If they shag right now, she's almost afraid of heat stroke.

"Let's go swimming." It's out of her mouth the moment she thinks it, and it feels like the best idea she's had in a long time. She hasn't gone swimming in years, and her excitement is quick. She doubts he'll agree, and she can always go by herself later, but she hopes he'll come.

She also doesn't know if she should risk going by herself anyway. After the... After her episode, it wasn't safe to go swimming around in deep water. She didn't know if she would be able to make it back to land if it happened again. Anger and self-pity begin to coil in her stomach, and then he's speaking again.

"What?" He looks at her like she's crazy, and he's considering taking several steps back. She shrugs and washes the soap off her hands.

"We'll go to the lake." The one he told her about forever ago. The one where she watched the sunrise and he lost his ring.

He looks like he just stepped in a wad of gum, and she grins at his wrinkled nose before turning off the tap. "Right now?"

She nods her head a little too enthusiastically, clipping his chin, and mutters a distracted apology at his injured noise. "Or you can stay and sweat to death."

The Fallout by EveryThursday (reposted)Where stories live. Discover now