Lies, Buried and Bound - A Dramione Story

Part Twenty-Two

As though he were reliving that day, Draco could hear Hermione as she spoke directly into his ear.

"Draco?"

"Hm?"

"I don't want this to end." He remembered feeling like his heart and soul had been torn from his body through his mouth. There wasn't a future for them. The infinity they shared was short-lived. Infinitesimal.

And yet he could still feel the way their skin had slid neatly against each other, no chafe, just slippery movement as they each devoted.

--

Hermione laid on Draco's chest, holding him as much as he held her. Both knew the other wouldn't let go unless the initiation were made by the first. But why would either of them make the first move when they could stay like this for as long as they pleased? They indulged in this fantasy, drank from the nectar of sweet relief that there was no war, just a battle of affection between them. There was no good and evil, just greying lust. No power-hungry dark lord, just a boy who loved a girl.

The slick moisture of their skin pressed together cooled. They might've stayed together like this forever.

Until the lovely fever broke. An instant was all it took to be taken out of this make-believe world.

The millions of nerves bundling in his forearm burst into white pain that struck Draco so suddenly and violently that he buckled his body forward, nursing the appendage close to his chest. Alarmed, Hermione sprang into action, kissing him gingerly, gripping his shoulders, and engaging in firm eye contact.

"Draco, listen to me. It will be okay; we can figure this out together."

"I have to go! I'm being called to him."

She was being stupid and she knew it. She couldn't ask him to put his calling aside. But she was stupid in love with this stupid boy she desired to call hers. So she pleaded with him, "Please! There must be another way! You can't leave after - "

" - But I must!" he yelped. "You said so yourself, this war is waged on the basis of hate! We need to go out and fight for love, don't you see? It's the only way I can love you again and again, like tonight."

"Do you love me, Draco?"

"Yes. I love you, Hermione Granger, fuck, I love you. More than I ever thought possible."

She reached for his face, and their foreheads touched. This was too real. Draco felt he was going to cry and he never cried. Not in front of anyone, yet here he was, on his knees before the only girl he'd let see him cry. He wasn't shocked to find the tears mingling with his sweat, not even when he discovered that the tears were hers and she, too, was crying softly.

She cupped the back of his head and lightly dragged her fingers through overgrown tendrils hovering over his neck. "You love me?" He nodded, hopelessly unravelling once more in her hands. "Now there's no way I'm letting you leave tonight, Malfoy." She tugged him forward and kissed him hard, again and again, twisting and turning their heads and melting into each other until their lips swelled from being bitten and sucked on.

His heart was so hot and heavy with this feeling that ought not to be a burden but it was for the sole reason that they shouldn't love each other. Finally, he was the one holding her face and he slowly stroked her cheeks lovingly. He looked down at the sexy woman before him, naked, raw, and tearfully gorgeous. His eyes drove from the way her kneels bent sideways and peeled her legs apart to the gracious curves of her hips, even at the fold in her tummy as she sat before him, then to her full and swollen breasts, capped with perky buds at her arousal.