Teach Me How to Love You (A Hermione Granger Love Story)

Teach Me How To Love You ... 14

A/N: [3/29/2016] So. I think this might be it. I might post an epilogue, but it's very likely that I will not. So the following chapter may just be the Acknowledgements & Information page (like I did with IWDTLY). Thanks so much for sticking through!

Teach Me How to Love You (A Hermione Granger Love Story)

Chapter 14: Warm Cheeks

The Hall is silent, though transparent in its obvious eavesdropping. I take another step back as Blaise continues to stare at me. He's not saying anything. Brown eyes stare directly at me, lips slightly wet and moving with unsaid words. His cheeks are a dusted pink under his complexion. Any ignorance he was putting towards me was now gone. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, trying not to shake. My hands grab the ends of my sweater sleeves and grip them tightly. They're damp from my sweaty palms.

"So, um—" I started.

"Hi, Hermione." Goyle was trying to break an awkward silence with very little finesse. The look of confusion was still there. His wide jaw didn't suit a nervous smile well.

"Oh," I stumbled over my words, backtracking. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before saying, "Hi, Greg. How's your Advanced Herbology essay coming along?"

Goyle's staring at Blaise now, who still hasn't moved. My face is getting hotter by the second. My blush is more obvious than Blaise's could ever be. I can feel Luna from the Gryffindor table where she sits with Neville. Her words of encouragement are still racing through my mind. Caden's gentle pat on my back still a grounding support to remain here and not run.

"Um, good?" Goyle's looking more confused now as Blaise still doesn't respond. Brows deep set in his forehead and crinkles under his eyes, it's akin to his usual worrying look. "I've just finished my research and began my thesis. I'm thinking I'll be done—"

"What the fuck was that?"

There was a skitter of action felt throughout. Suddenly people were talking in low tones, laughter was echoing on the ceiling. I could swear there were bets being made on the other end of the Slytherin table. It would be just like Luna to bet on my love life as well. I'm probably overthinking this whole situation.

I don't deign him with an answer. I cross my arms and lift a brow. If Violet can fake an attitude than so can I. She was the master at pretending not to care what happened. Well, she was until she got together with Draco. That was beside the point however.

Blaise is leaning towards me now. His sleeves were pushed three-quarters of the way on his dark green button-up. Elbows to his black trousers and eyes only rings of irises, I knew he was serious.

"What the fuck was that, Granger?"

Fake it, Hermione. Fake it. Don't tear up. Don't let him know that you threw all your cards on the table. Just because you can't tell if he's shocked, angry, or both doesn't mean anything. It's not like you wanted this to work out or whatever. Merlin, these are happy tears, duh.

He stands up abruptly, grabbing my wrist in a deadlock. Goyle nearly shouts in surprise, the benching having shaken roughly. I can feel each fingernail through my sleeve as he drags me towards the entrance doors. The Hall is a mutter of whispers, some louder than others:

"Should we get a professor?"

"What's going on?"

"They're always fighting—"

I think perhaps I imagine that loud, "Good luck!" that sounds suspiciously like Caden Bone. The corresponding laugh must also be a figment made in my head.

All suggestions for help go unheeded it seems as Blaise pulls me into an alcove not too far from the Great Hall. He's puffing out exaggerated breaths. His eyes are skittish again, not wanting to look at me. Every time they wander too close, they flick away with a shake of Blaise's head. He hasn't let go of me yet and it's starting hurt. I barely notice as he emphasizes unsaid words with gestures towards me and then back to him. Blaise's face is ranging from unease and discomfort to bemusement and worry. Through all this, though, his cheeks remain a steady red. It's easier to notice now that I've gotten so close to him.

It's only after a few moments that I lift my other hand to his around my wrist. I grip his in a reverse handhold. I pick apart each finger, pulling it back and in between mine. His right hand was now in my left, loosely at first. I tried to ignore my own clammy palm in favor of his.

"What the fuck was that, Hermione?"

It's whispered down to me, but his eyes are loud and curious. I shrug. Looking down at our hands together, I memorize the differences in us. Despite how hopeful his voice sounded, I couldn't help but be afraid. It's an unbridling fear in my gut, heavy and unwelcome. I don't want to forget this while I still have the chance to gather what I can.

His palm is calloused but soft like he moisturizes. The deepness of his skin brings out the ivory in my own. The rounded plain tips of his fingernails counteract the haphazard nail polish on my own. Somehow all these facts bring tears to my eyes.

"A kiss?" It comes out uncertain. So much for faking it.

"Yeah?" There seems to be something stuck it his throat. It comes out a question too, like me, uncertain and a little unsteady. His fingers give a tight squeeze against mine. Tightening my grip back seems like an answer enough.

We stand there for a moment, neither of us really looking at one another. Blaise seems to be building a resolve. Only through quick glances can I see him creating his aura again; he's becoming Blaise once more. Not that this person in front of me wasn't him, but I couldn't read him like I could before. I could see him analyzing the situation, my actions, his own, all the different possibilities. It's as he's sliding back into himself that he asks me:

"What about Bone?"

I shake my head, "Didn't work out."

"Weasley?" I had to be imagining the ghosting of a smile on his face.

I couldn't help but snort, "No."

"Potter?" It's growing now. Tugging at the corners and showing teeth in the middle. Merlin, he's gorgeous. I've been so blind.

The laugh gets tugged out of me, "You're really grabbing for straws."

"What?" A surprised chuckle bubbles out.

"Never-mind, no. Not Harry either."

"Me?" Blaise is full on grinning now, bashful but with a superior edge. It speaks like 'of course it's me' but with a tone of bewilderment in between; surprise is mingling with hope once more.

I pretend to think about, letting him sweat it a bit. His smile drops in his eyes, but is still full on his lips. He's as bad at faking it as I am it seems. I tighten my hold on his hand again, pulling a shy smile onto my face. I'm blushing; the heat is building my cheeks again, having cooled down while I confessed my not-likes as opposed to my likes. I shrugged again, nodding along.

"Yeah, maybe."

"I'm going to kiss you now." It's said with a laugh, one lacking any harsh reprise and one that I've been needing hear since I met him. I just didn't know it at the time. There was a lot that I didn't know then.

My accompanying laugh it cut off by soft lips and warm cheeks.

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Thanks again!

love and fireworks,

unique-goddess