Need [ dramione ]

Chapter 35

26 February 1999 - 4 Days Before the Full Moon

Hermione's eyes never leave his as he reaches the armchair, wearing nothing but his trousers and his socks. Every step is heavy, and he's breathing hard, but he needs this, needs to do this. She needs to know that he is still alive, that his heart is still beating in his chest, and that it is still beating for her.

He loves her with every piece of himself, and until she believes it, he is going to spend the rest of his life-

She had thought he wasn't coming, that he had betrayed her, that he would choose to not come to her, to not bring her... at the very least, even if he hated her, he would still bring her the potion.

A deep down part of himself tells him that he is desperate, that he should be enraged that she doubted him, that he should be furious at her lack of faith in him, and yet...

How often has someone come for her? How often has someone saved her? How often have people betrayed her?

She has suffered a lifetime of being the only one that is strong and reliable, and in the end, it has left her carrying the heaviest burden all alone.

She needs to know, without a doubt in her mind, that he will always be right beside her, ready to share the weight, every step of the way.

Her hands are gripping the arm rests of the chair, her eyes boring into his, and as his leg brushes her knee, she shudders, audibly, her entire body responding to the simple touch. It's not even skin on skin, but he can already feel how cold she is, followed by a burning sensation through his body.

He needs this, she needs this, and they're going to have this.

"Stand up."

She rises immediately, her body pressing to his, and he grabs her chin forcefully, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. Her eyes are already heavy, and as he bends down to kiss her, she tries to pull back, but he-

She wants this. He knows she does. Any other time, he would never force her touch, force his touch, but she's only doing this because she's worried for him. Well, he needs her. Her little attempt at doing what's best for him isn't welcome in the moment.

His lips press to hers, and she moans into his kiss, her body sagging against him. His arm wraps around her middle, tugging her closer, and he uses the last of his strength to lift her up off her feet as he turns, his back now towards the armchair. His hand moves into her hair, tugging at the roots, and he pulls her head back away from her lips.

She tries to chase his lips, to go after him - just as he thought. Just as he knew.

"Take off your clothes and sit in my lap," he tells her before releasing her hair.

He's going to sit down, slide his cock out of his trousers, and wait for her to straddle him, so he can-

Her hands shove at his shoulders, and he sits down into the seat, hard. Before he can even speak or think, she's already in his lap, her legs on either side of his, and the heat of her core radiating through their layers of clothing.

Her hands go into his hair and his hands settle on her hips, and he's... he... he's lost in her.

Her mouth presses to his, tongue dipping in, and in seconds their mouths are tangled together. He has to remind himself, over and over, to keep the leaf tucked into his cheek, but then her mouth moves to his jaw, and his neck, and his shoulder, and he has a chance to take a breath.

Together, they peel her out of her layers of clothes, her sweater tossed behind her, her skirt coming unwrapped, her shoes kicked off, bra tossed aside- In no time at all, she's left in just stockings and knickers, and he still in his trousers.