quidditch kiss cam | dramione

17. Unsatisfactory Answers. (part one)

New year's eve was marked with many notions, romantic ones.

A kiss to his lips.

“Say that again?”

A shy smile in thin air.

“I love you.”

A content sigh from his side, nose buried deep in her soft toffee curls.

“Again.”

“I love you.” he closed his eyes, taking in her beautiful scent.

“I love you.” she repeated, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his bare skin.

“I love you.” she tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed another velvety kiss to his lips, his nose, his closed eyes, his cheeks and then, a last one to seal the promise, on his lips again.

Draco's fingers came up to stroke her collarbone, taking their dear time moving against her skin. With every graze, Hermione found herself falling deeper and deeper into the blissful canopy Draco had managed to push her into just by telling her that he loved her. She knew that the moment she had said those words back to him, there would be no turning back, either she was all in or all out. Because let's face it, loving Draco Malfoy was no piece of cake; loving him was like loving a thousand different pieces of a broken mirror— even though it was shattered, you couldn't help but pick up the sharp pieces in your hands and admire the mosiac for it's beauty.

The moment she whispered back the words to him, she knew. She knew it was going to be a difficult road down to happiness, but hey, she had been through this before, right? This time, she had the company of the man she loved.

“God, I'd never get tired of listening to you say that again and again.” she felt him exhale deeply. His fingers came down to tangle with hers, “I love you, too,” he kissed her lips and looked down at her delicate form— rosy cheeks and wild curls enhancing the beauty she already possessed.

It felt...nice.

To say those words, it felt nice, he concluded.

Maybe it had been the frailty of the nightmare that had provoked him to speak his mind but one way or another, he was glad he had spoken what he had already known, what he had always believed deep down in his heart. Saying those wonderful yet frightening words had been on top of his list of “most worrisome things” and now, he'd give anything to say those words to her.

His heart told him that he knew about loving Hermione all along.

Somewhere in between their little study sessions and enduring the aftereffects of the Quidditch Kiss Cam, he had fallen head over heels in love with the brightest witch of their age.

Somewhere in between stolen kisses and exposing naked confessions at midnight, he had fallen in love with her.

Somewhere in the midst of telling her all about his life, his most cherished memories, his darkest secrets, his past prejudices and everything in between, Draco had surrended over his wounded heart to the girl he had tormented all his life, the girl he had grown to cherish, to worship, to love with all of him.

All he knew now was that she was the most beautiful miracle to happen to him in all his eighteen years of existence.

“Merlin bless that unsmart kiss cam,” he pushed himself up on his elbows, admiring the brown of her eyes as she smiled at him.

“Just say stupid. I know you want to.” Hermione brushed back his hair from his eyes. The soft locks made her want to keep on running her hand through them.