Blood on his Hands

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"Tom?"

He lay flat in bed beside Hermione, and the moment she breathed his name, his eyes popped open. They were a glowing, scarlet red.

Hermione gasped, jumping slightly as her heart began to race.

He sat unmoving for a moment, blinking intermittently as he stared at the ceiling. After a beat, she watched his eyes slowly fade to black.

Then he turned to her.

"Are you okay, Tom?"

He gazed at her for a few seconds. "Dreams."

His hand shot out and snatched her waist against his.

"What dreams?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

He was already sliding her knickers down her hips.

"Wait," she breathed.

He stopped, pinning her with a look of irritation and impatience.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes meeting his unabashedly. "About what I said last night."

He swallowed. In his gaze, she saw no hurt or anger, only a kind of self-awareness and introspection that she found confusing. "It's fine, Hermione. I suppose it does make sense."

"I just," Hermione began, but cut herself off as she searched for the proper words. "It's not that I don't want this to lead to something, but... I've already been through so much. I'm afraid I can't take another great Shakespearean tragedy in my life."

His jaw tensed. He looked at her seriously, and his cosmic black eyes were pensive and faraway. He gave a short nod of acknowledgement, then changed the subject. "I have to go. I have a meeting this morning. I can't laze the day away with you, unfortunately." He smirked. "Our little honeymoon is over."

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yes, I quite enjoyed the part where you held my hair back while I upchucked profusely. Quite romantic."

He grinned. "Oh, I enjoyed that too. You stopped playing tough, for once."

That elicited a smile from her and she ran her fingers absently down his planes of his chest, dragging her fingernails through the light hair on his chest.

He caught her wrist, wrapping his long, powerful fingers around her delicate bones and pinned it to her side. Then he proceeded to search the skin of her shoulder with his mouth.

"Um," she breathed. Then she cleared her throat. "Tom."

He ejected a violent stream of air from his nostrils as he leaned back and glared at her.

"I don't really feel like it this morning."

He cocked his head, eyes narrowing. "Since when?"

She bit her lip. "Since I started my period last night?"

His eyebrows shot up. " Oh ."

She nodded, then looked around awkwardly.

He cleared his throat. "So you... definitely don't want to-"

"Tom!"

He grinned. "Just clarifying."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Definitely not. Now I need my tea."

He chuckled and allowed her to roll away. As she made her way toward the bedroom door, he said, "Hermione."

She turned with a questioning look.

"Give me your knickers."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

He grinned deviously. "As a heart attack, little witch."

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